Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics
by Flowing Tears
Summary: Shattered Glass. He will keep you, he will never kill you. He will torture you, he will violate you, he will humiliate you, but he will never, ever kill you. Maybe that is the edge we need, maybe you are his weak spot. Starscream begs to differ. Ch3 Fixed
1. Chapter 1

Title: Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics

Summary: Shattered Glass. He will keep you, he will never kill you. He will torture you, he will violate you, he will humiliate you, but he will never, ever kill you. Maybe that is the edge we need, maybe you are his weak spot. Starscream begs to differ.

Genre: Angst/Romance

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for abuse, torture, violence, gore. Sadism. OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware.

A/N: Edited! A lot of things fixed.

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

They would start with the biting rains at their side.

On Earth the soft droplets of water have long ago been replaced by acidic poison, corrosive if left to linger on anything, flesh, stone or metallic. On the touch nothing will happen, but damage always shows after several hours. Normally, no one would venture out of they didn't need to. The heavy downpours are a strong setback, turning the dry, thirsty ground in a slippery mud that will creep into crevices too deep for anyone's pleasure.

It is why _they_ will attack now. And it begins with a simple command over a crowded communication link.

The clouds are green and grey, thick and heavy with rain. If one would look at the sky now, they would see the deep purple missiles splitting the clouds. They accompany the droplets of rain, dropping down with a vengeful thirst. Their targets are integrated in their little minds, they are nothing but drones ready for deactivation at the command of their overlord. Several slam into the ground itself, throwing up rocks and junk along with their colourful explosions. Anyone close enough would be blinded by the flash they release, temporarily disabling optics that dare follow their trek to their final destination. Twelve of them impact with the large towers of the stronghold. On impact hundreds perish, the building collapsing on itself and taking hundreds more.

The grounders aren't very lucky. Many of the enemy forces have intercepted them as they try to flee the onslaught. They are torn to pieces by sheer numbers. The Decepticons were outnumbered even before the missiles were dropped, now their enemy has nothing better to do then pick them off one by one. Make a game out of it.

Those who manage to flee through the sky, they are even less lucky. So many flyers, so many to target. It doesn't let off though, their enemy targets them from the ground with missiles themselves. The flyers, from the smallest fighter jets to the greatest carriers are shot down at random. Far beneath them their enemy laughs and jokes and celebrates, congratulating their own when another one is shot to pieces. If they dare survive being shot, they will not survive colliding into the ground. And if they do survive the fall…

"I saw him first! He's mine!"

"Fat chance! Let go!"

"No!"

"It. Is. Mine!"

They fight over the survivors like dogs over a bone. Though dogs would be much less hostile. The fallen flyer is already damaged beyond repair, barely clinging to life as it is. His left leg comes loose with a crunching of cables and shattering armour. The seeker can't even scream in agony anymore when the other pulls at a wing, dragging him over the jagged ground. Rocks bury themselves into the mech's chassis through cuts. They sever a few vital lines, and as the enemy bot pulls him away from his 'comrade' the upper half of his body comes loose. Half of the fading body is dragged, fuel lines, cables, circuit boards, a pile of critically damaged spare parts is left in the body's wake. He dies somewhere along the way, lucky mech.

"Give me a wing!"

"They're mine! Get your own!"

Another flyer impacts the Earth not too far away. The femme was lucky enough to off line on the impact of the missile. She won't feel the two mechs fight over her parts, or what are left of those.

If they manage to get behind enemy borders, the Decepticons will have a much bigger chance of getting out of the slaughter alive. The harsh lands are filled with enemy troops, a mountain range with great rocks and deep crevices where the 'bots can hide and await their incoming target.

Flying amongst some of the flyers, the Decepticon SiC is one of the few who is attacking the Autobots. Others try to flee in a panic, and he is one of the few fighting back who is yet to be shot down. _That's because they want you alive._ He stubbornly ignores the little voice in the back of his CPU whispering foul promises. He doesn't want to hear it. He manoeuvres himself down closer to Earth still, pelting a pair of unsuspecting Autobots with his null-rays. They quit their bickering over a couple of corpses and fall to the ground, both motionless.

The seeker pulls up and circles a cliffside, growing desperate in finding any of his comrades. He doesn't know if his wingmates are all right. Or one of their other officers for that matter. He hasn't seen Megatron for a very long time as well. Rumour has it he fell by the hands of the Prime, but Starscream refuses to believe that.

The number of casualties is drastically increasing.

Unbeknownst to the flyer he's being watched from the murky skies by the few Autobot flyers, the treacherous cliff edge and the harsh lands below. He does notice when his sensors pick up a red signal trailing his tail. With a sharp turn away from the cliff the seeker dives towards the ground, evading the laser bullets coming from the Autobot sniper. But the sniper is the least of his problems when fire from below strikes the left wingtip and his right thrusters. More impacts follow like dull thuds to the metal of his body when he loses momentum and begins spinning towards the earth. He endures several more impacts before the firing stops, but there is no time left to think about it as he transforms out of his jet mode. The landing is messy, causing more damage to his white chassis which he really can't use right now. He comes to a stop against a very jagged rock against his chest. The impact is more painful then deadly. That would be the most luck he will receive ever again.

The holler of several Autobot soldiers reaches his audios, terrifying the Decepticon SiC. With a grunt he tries to get onto his pedes, one of his thrusters heels shot to scrap, the other slightly burnt. His right wing is busted up. Bent and broken in an unnatural and very painful position. Energon is almost pouring from one of the freed, snapped cables on his back, causing agony that makes him falter. His left hand has sustained severe damage, he can't move his fingers well and the wrist has locked up. He misses two fingers of the other hand. One of his knees keeps locking up when he puts too much weight on it, not good at all. His left side lies bare, the armour scraped off when he had landed. His cockpit glass is shattered, exposing inner wiring and even that is damaged. Eternal damage is at a minimum, though that will make no difference. There is a steady pounding drumming inside his head, and one of his optics isn't working anymore.

With a clear limp in his step the seeker makes his way towards… somewhere. Just not here…

Anywhere but here.

Primus isn't finished with him. Out of any of the Autobots to find him, it has to be _them_. "Would you look at that?" Sunstreaker gives the Decepticon his most _charming_ smile.

"Pretty as always." Sideswipe steps up besides his brother, the same, horrible smile splitting his face. His yellow and black brother steps up next to him, giving the seeker enough space to flee. They hope he tries to run, it will be so much fun to chase him. It's not often Starscream is grounded, not during battle, and to have the seeker this close now is a wonderful treat to the Terror Twins. But the flyer can't escape, and he knows it. He cannot run, and he won't be flying for a while either. Starscream presses his sore back into the rock formation behind himself, feeling energon beginning to drip from a slowly parting injury that opens itself as he pushes against the rocky surface.

The twins are a head smaller, but much heavier then he is, and on the ground they are a formidable opponent. More so then in the skies. They are formidable opponents when the SiC _isn't_ injured. They prove themselves when they move to attack the nearly defenceless seeker. They target his null-rays first. Sideswipe attacks head on, grab for a slender arm and twisting it down. The smaller bot may not really look like it, but he packs power. Starscream snarls and throws a claw at him, hooking it in vital fuel lines in the smaller bot's neck. They don't cut through the thick cables, instead hook and now he's _stuck_. With the seeker having his hands full with him the other twin had groped the ray on his left arm and tears it off, pulling a long cable with it that Starscream feels being pulled out of his arm all the way from his elbow. Starscream struggles to prevent the other from being taken, but Sideswipe is as relentless as the acidic rain still pouring from the skies and it's lost before the seeker can register it.

Suddenly the twins back away simultaneously, but as Starscream focuses his one working optic on the red one, the yellow one dives forward again. Pain crashes through the flyer's CPU when he lands on his back, causing a short fallout of systems and in a split second he feels blissfully numb. He uses the gained momentum of the tackle to roll over, pinning the smaller Autobot beneath him. Even without his claws the seeker is not helpless. Black lips pull back over sharp dentas and he bites down, clamping his jaws around the cables he was unable to damage before. Energon lines rupture and energon fills his mouth faster then he can swallow.

Another strong body collides with his side. While the yellow twin tries to stop the bleeding the red fighter has tackled the larger flyer to the ground, slamming him down and forcing his bent and broken winds to scrape over the rocky surface. Starscream's cockpit glass had shattered upon the impact against earth, now its leftovers are being torn away, Sideswipe going ballistic over the _minor_ injuries his brother sustained. He reaches inside the exposed chest to grab a fist full of wiring and cables, pulling them along when the flyer throws him off with a screech of agony.

The damage has been done, and the only thought racing through Starscream's processor was to get up. He doesn't get any farther then rolling over on his stomach. The red twin is still at a small distance away, so the weight slamming down on his back is the yellow bot. Any leftover fight is leaving the seeker's exhausted frame. Too much energon lost. Too many injuries. Too many systems falling offline one by one. If he's lucky, the Terror Twins will kill him. They are quiet for a few moment, exchanging glances and wicket smiles.

"Think it will come off?"

"Let's try."

He releases another deafening screech of anguish, but his enemies are only delighted by the pained cries and they begin to work on his already broken wing. While one is holding him down, a job made easy with his weight alone, the other is pulling at the base of his left wing. Cables are torn out, metal is bending and breaking, energon is pouring out of the injury in an increasing stream and sparks crackle from an electric line. The seeker barely has strength to struggle but he tries while screaming his vocaliser out. What else is left to do?

Though they have the order to capture him alive, it seems the twins want him dead.

The flyer is grounded, maybe even permanently considering the damage to his wing. That much he knows as he feels unconsciousness trying to take him away. _Stay awake. Don't fall asleep. _The mantra repeats itself over and over, on auto cue.

Starscream doesn't know if he should count himself lucky or not when another Autobot appears upon the scene.

He recognises the gruff voice, shouting at the twin Autobots. They talk back at him, resulting in the sudden weight lifting from the seeker's chassis. He groans in relief, startling when one of the twins lands a few feet away. They stand down anyway, not wanting to pick a fight with this particular old Autobot. Black pedes cross the flyer's line of vision, the mech snarling at the twins some more.

Starscream knows he is picked up, but is also aware that he blacks out. He doesn't know for how long, his chronometer is removed from his chassis when he wakes again. All he can tell is that they are airborne, that he is being transferred through the skies. Voices surround him, some of them from enemies he knows, some of them from comrades. He grieves for them already, knowing full well prisoners never last long in Autobot clutches.

Another black out, this time shorter. Starscream wakes again when someone pulls him up by his right arm. "On your feet!" Easier said then done. The larger black mech pulls again, his grip crumbling the already brittle armour of the seeker's upper arm. His hands are bound by cuffs. Not that he could do anything right now.

A painful knock to the head, and his single optic is online again. He still hisses, which earns him a punch in the lower stomach, right beneath the remains of his cockpit. Pain flares up in full throttle and he whimpers, nearly losing his footing at a harsh slap to his face. "Quiet yourself." The order is clear, and he really should lest he wants to be hit again. he lifts his gaze to the other mech, realising one of his optics is cracked. Ironhide. The name finally comes to mind. Not a mech he would be happy to have him escorting into a stronghold littered with Autobot emblems. The veteran leads him out of a plane, probably a large transporter and into a stronghold. Enormous walls, all encrypted with the Autobot insignia, a prison for any Decepticon. The flyer glances behind him, seeing the large black and white mech transform into an all familiar face. Pain, from his very spark itself floods him now, pain and betrayal. Jetfire glances at him, his optics cold and faceplates emotionless.

"Keep walking." He does so as fast as his damaged legs can carry him, but it seems Ironhide is doing all of the dragging for him. The streets themselves are bustling with Autobots who have returned from this day's slaughter. Many bloody red optics turn their way, and Starscream has trouble ignoring some of the comments and promises shouted their way. Most of them promise torture, pain of many different shapes and sizes. They scream foul language, curse him, throw vulgar threats. None of them act to it, not daring to get in the black bot's way, though one is brave enough to touch him. "I would bed you right, pretty flyer." The poisonous green mech hisses through sharp dentas, hand dancing along the jaw line of the terrified seeker. The daring Autobot is shot through the head from a short distance, energon and tiny parts splattering over the seeker's face who stands shocked, though it wasn't Ironhide to react.

More Autobots part, some of them scattering upon hearing the angered voice of the Autobot Sub-Commander curse at every direction. "Get back, all of you! He belongs to the Prime!" Though Starscream has never met the vicious black and white mech, he knows about his reputation. It is whispered Jazz might have a few disconnected wires. Then again, do not all Autobots have a few screws loose? When it comes to loyalty, there is no follower like the nasty mech, but even loyalty can become too much can it not?

"Prime is _waiting_!" The angered statement is thrown at Ironhide, but the older mech is unfazed.

"Don't get your wires in a twist. This glitch isn't going anywhere." He tugs at the upper arm of their captive again, dragging the seeker towards the heavily guarded entrance of the stronghold. At least the calling has subsided now that Jazz is here to ensure that what belongs to Prime is not touched by anyone else.

The halls are mostly empty. Here, inside this part of the stronghold only higher ranking Autobots dwell. Some of the nastier, some of the meaner. Some of the more cruel ones.

They round corners, climb a staircase, venture through corridors, pass more doors then Starscream would care to remember. This fortress is solid, there is no way in.

_No way out._

They reach their destination. Starscream doesn't need to know who is on the other side of the double doors to feel the aura of power cascading down on him. He has felt it several times before, never were the encounters with the Prime pleasant.

_It will be much worse from now on. He will be able to touch you now._ He has a lot of trouble silencing the menacing voice. _You will belong to him._

A large throne room, decorated with weapons and body parts of Decepticons killed long ago. With a gasp Starscream recognises the most recent trophy, the fusion cannon of his Commander… ex-Commander now… is perched against the wall well above the throne of the Prime. _It's true then._ "No…" _Please no._ The seeker's optic falls on the mech occupying the very throne. The very mech that has been haunting him for millennia.

"Ratchet is waiting, but I thought you'd like to see to the seeker yourself first." Always the loyal friend, Ironhide is. Optimus chuckles deeply, his red optics burning up with glee. The imposing mech is even more intimidating when he stands. If Starscream hadn't been this exhausted, he would have struggled against Ironhide and Jazz to stay as far away from this overlord as possible. They are dead set on dragging him to their lord though.

With just a few steps between them Starscream's captors suddenly stop walking. Not a tick to spare on it when they both push the seeker into their Commander. The seeker throws his bound hands up to lessen the impact, but it still forces a grunt out of him. Pain throbs through his head again, but that is not as bad as the agony flaring up when the Prime circles his waist with one arm, keeping him prisoner. "Was this… necessary?" The terrified flyer feels the voice of the overlord rumble through his very being, feels anger brewing. The other strokes a deep gash with his free hand, crossing it over the devastated wing, making Starscream whimper when the feeling travels through his very core. "He put the twins in bad shape, so they returned the favour." Well… at least Jazz is annoyed by this. To damage something that belongs to their Prime is an outrage.

"I see…" The anger dies down slightly. The crimson optics stare back down at the trapped seeker. With reawakened strength Starscream begins to struggle again, no longer caring if he manages to damage himself more then the bastard holding him. Prime doesn't seem fazed though. "Leave us." He commands, his voice unnaturally soft and even gentle. His warriors salute to him and retreat immediately. Their lord watches them go, until the double doors are closed behind their backs and resealed once more.

Optimus looks down then, optics flaring up. The flyer struggles more, managing to scratch his paintjob with his remaining claws.

How bothersome.

"Calm yourself pretty one." Starscream manages a sort of kick against his captor's leg, scraping more paint. His energon is already staining a great deal of the overlord's chassis. The hand recently tracing his wing moves to his head and rests under his chin, snapping his head back painfully. The Decepticon finally stops struggling, or whatever he would call it. All that there is left for him to do is vent air through ragged vents and air ducts. They are badly damaged from his messy landing. They rattle with broken parts and fluids. If it weren't for the other mech holding him up he would have fallen.

"Much better." The overlord muses softly, brushing a thumb over the black jaw line of the smaller mech, painting it a soft blue due to the azure energon dripping down the seeker's lips. No longer caring if he will be allowed to survive the night Starscream snaps at the thumb with razor teeth, trying to bite it but losing against the other's quick reflexes.

Starscream thought he would be slapped again for something like that, had _hoped_ the other mech would slap him. The action draws a humoured laugh from the Prime instead. Not good at all. The words that follow soon after make the energon still running though his wiring run cold with dread.

"So feisty. We can't have any of that now can we? I will tame you soon enough pretty one. For now, welcome to your new home."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for abuse, torture, violence, gore. Sadism. OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware. Warning may expand in the future.

A/N: RnR, and have fun somewhere in the middle.

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

A true doctor is an unsympathetic sadist creative in his torture.

"It won't take long." The medic is softly purring, engine rumbling in excitement at the new victim on the berth before him. The flyer is draped over the platform, lying on his front. Turning him on his back will prove near impossible with the immense damage done there. A long, perfectly white finger is stabbing at a joint of the wing, poking through a burn mark and stabbing the burnt wires underneath, coating it with black flecks and energon. It is taking a great deal of self control, but Starscream remains silent. His cooling vents are working over time, have been actually ever since he had been shoved into the leader of the Autobots. His working optic remains fixated on a particular stain on the ground. He simply refuses to acknowledge the Prime standing in front of him, hand absently trailing along his bruised and dented neck cables, petting him like a concerned lover.

The low rumble of a powerful engine cuts any thought the flyer was currently having short. The large mech stares down at the figure on the berth, optics unreadable as always. The mask conceals any further emotion, the whole persona illegible. "I can beat out any dents in under a day, and I have a fresh batch of spare parts coming in lest I need those." The seeker suppresses a shudder, knowing exactly what the doctor means by the spare parts. How many Decepticons have been captured alive or were taken in dead is a question in itself. Though a bot doesn't need to be permanently off lined to donate. "Which I'm sure I will in the near future." The sing song voice of the medic is filled with an insatiable glee that has the flyer's tanks curl and roll with nausea. The confirming click of the other mech is _not_ helping the seeker calm.

The scrape of metal lifting from metal causes a flare of heat to run through the flyer's chassis. His spark is pulsating with anticipation. The Hatchet has a dreadful reputation. One of the many Autobots Starscream has never encountered in battle, and never wanted to if he recalls. He knows the stories passed from soldier to soldier, and they are no where near telling of sunshine and kittens.

Prime doesn't send his men to the dimly lit med bay to get them all patched up. He sends them there for punishment.

The two Autobots cover the details of the seeker's injuries, from his shattered optic to the half torn wing. From the large slab of missing armour on his hip to his busted thrusters heel. From what Starscream gathers, it will be many procedures that can be done in one go. It will be quicker then the flyer initially thought, thanks to the aforementioned spare parts. There is no telling just how many cabling needs rewiring, how much armour needs replacement.

"Put him under. Struggling will slow things down."

"I can simply strap him down."

The following silence is a final statement. It appears Optimus needs only look at his medic to get his point across. "Another time it is." The butcher… medic… sounds disappointed. Still he does what told, not about to provoke the wrath of his lord.

The soft petting on the back of his neck ceases slowly, the large hand moving over the seeker's face. Starscream winches when the thumb crosses the brittle glass of his optic, cracking it further with every inch it moves. For a moment he feels as if the other mech will just plunge the thumb into the socket and rip out what is left of the eye wholly. The thought causes the seeker to stir again. On instant the hand moves to the back of his neck again, fingers digging into the wiring and cutting vital lines with a brute strength Starscream hasn't seen in a long time. He bites back a cry, stifling it to a pathetic whimper when the hand presses down hard, denting cables, creating more injuries for the doctor to treat. "Calm yourself pretty one." The rumble is a repeat from earlier, soft and inviting, but a tone is hidden beneath the thick layers of calm. The Prime is a talented actor, hiding a monster behind his mask.

Starscream is not looking forward to meeting it.

For now, there is nothing left for him to do but sleep, a blissful silence. The doctor stays true to his lord when he sedates his patient. Reluctant in doing so, but ever the more with care. Starscream barely feels the thick syringe as it stabs through a vital line in his lower back. It takes a small bit of time, but as the kliks tick by the seeker feels the pain inside of him lessen. The painful burn in his back and wing cools down, the agonizing throb in his cranium slows and decreases, the flare in his legs losing its feeling all together. With a stuttering breath from cracked vents he relaxes on the table, ready to welcome a disturbing slumber. Somewhere along the way, the overlord has made himself scarce, but Starscream couldn't care less for him.

A hand wrapping around a loose cable released from his torn back slams him from that gentle cloud and straight back into reality. His vents hitch, his wing twitches with alarm.

The doctor begins softly singing to himself, examining the torn wing at intense proximity. Starscream can't see him work, but he can feel what he is doing.

Which _cannot_ be right.

Ratchet moves into his line of sight, collecting a few clean tools and items scattered around his domain. At one point the medic tenses, listening to his comm. link and probably discussing for his patient. With a sudden motion he snaps around at the table the seeker occupies. Starscream would have been startled, but the strength in his body has left him. A pair of freezing white hands curl around the seeker's face, lifting it none too gently. Furious ruby optics meet the flyer's own shattered one, their gaze shifting over every little crack and splinter. The doctor's lip twitches into an empty smile before he begins brushing at broken optical glasses, removing splinters and shards. It doesn't hurt due to the sedation, but the _feeling_ has the seeker's tank make a one-eighty where he lies. He nearly freaks out when two white fingers bury themselves in to the mostly empty socket of his eye, their tips capturing the end of a snapped cable and _pulling_. He feels and hears the snap of the small cable coming loose, feels and hears it split from the circuit boards it is attached to, feels and hears it come loose as the butcher pulls it free.

A fresh stream of energon begins leaking from the mostly empty hole, dripping over the flyer's face in crooked lines and dripping onto the already energon littered table. Ratchet carelessly releases the string before concentrating on his link again, answering several silent questions before he continues collecting the materials and tools he needs for the patient's wing.

If Starscream could he would be hyperventilating, but his body remains in a state of slumber whilst he remains conscious. He tries to calm himself down, in a pathetic attempt to remain sane, failing while the doctor begins on his wing.

There is no physical pain as the medic makes surprising quick work. But every pull, every snap, every push against every cable, every little touch is painful reality. It leaves the seeker helpless even as Ratchet begins digging into a cut with a laser knife and pries it open with strong fingers. Muscle strings and cable filaments part with an almost flesh like ripping kind of sound, the tear increasing and more warm energon streaming down onto the table. The cracking and breaking and snapping can be heard and felt perfectly, and there is nothing the seeker can do. Not even beg the mech to stop this, to put him under or to relieve the sedation all together so Starscream can at least hear himself scream instead of the sharp sounds and feelings. All the while the medic softly sings to himself, a song the seeker doesn't know. "Long ass fucking time ago, in a town called Kickapoo." A wrench falls onto the iron ground with a deafening clatter, pausing the doctor for just a blink. "There lived a humble family, religious through and through."

Hours pass, the medic making quick work. The song he sings, the same damn song leaves his vocals over and over and _over_. By now Starscream knows every line and could sing along if he whished. But in the back of his mind he is thankful for the doctor's seemingly subconscious chanting. It proves to be slightly distracting from prodding fingers and tools disappearing deep beneath his armour. The sounds are more difficult to banish.

The flyer's wing and back are restored without the usage of spare parts. Starscream is thankful for this, not knowing how the Autobots will harvest any spare appendages. When his back is restored the medic turns him over onto his back. It puts the seeker in an awkward position, momentarily bewildering him. A flyer rarely spends time on their back, due to the heavy mount and broad wings. His CPU struggles getting him back in position, causing the room to spin around him even though he himself isn't moving. "You become a mindless puppet, Beëlzebub will pull the strings." The medic begins working on his left leg, once again reaching in and removing snapped lines, scraping blackened pieces away. He is already covered in energon and burn mark residue but seems uncaring. "Your heart will lose direction, and chaos it will bring." Though Starscream can name a million places he would rather be then right here, he is impressed with how quick the doctor seems to do his work. If Ratchet weren't a sadistic bastard, he could restore and save many, many lives.

"Rock is not the Devil's work it's magical and rad."

The song lasts about four minutes and ten seconds, give of take a few kliks. The butcher begins to sound like a broken CD player, repeating the song, repeating the words in the same tone, the same speed, the same thing over and over. Such repetition is surely not coming from a sane and healthy CPU.

"In the city of fallen angels, where the ocean meets the sand. You will form a strong alliance, and the world's most awesome band. To find your fame and fortune, through the Valley you must walk…"

The lock upon the doors is released and the heavy metal slides apart, allowing entrance to three pairs of legs. Starscream can't move to see them come in. "Where do you want 'im?" A struggle begins as two guards, bots the flyer doesn't know, begin dragging a prisoner to the berth next to him. The fellow seeker is clicking and chirping, his throat devastated, only allowing him to communicate in seeker speak, but nothing else. Starscream can feel his spark break at the other flyer's pleading, begging the two other Autobots to do to him what they want, but release his carrying mate stuck in the dungeon.

Ratchet quickly has enough of the seeker's chanting. He is next to the strapped down flyer in a flash, wide grin splitting his faceplates as he brings his hands up to the defenceless mech's throat. The first crack and tear that come to hearing cause the new victim to cry in agony, the second crack and tear cutting the sound abruptly. The stranger's lips still move frantically, but only a soft whirring and stuttering gasps escape his vocals now.

"Prime said this one's yours when you're finished with the other flyer."

"Fun…"

"Don't make Prime wait." Jazz's tone is direct, sounding from the door. Ratchet replies with a smooth promise of quick recovery, an answer that pleases the saboteur it seems.

Starscream feels for the other flyer.

The two nameless Autobots leave without another word, allowing the medic to get back to his work as fast as possible. Ratchet remains at the other flyer's side, studying his face. His optics, to be precise. "Perfect…" The doctor softly murmurs to himself, collecting a few specific tools.

And then he begins singing again. "Long ass fucking time ago, in a town called Kickapoo." His voice is softer this time as he works, allowing him to hear every single sound his second patient is making. Starscream feels himself grow cold, his vents stuttering in horror and down right fear. The other prisoner is trying to struggle against the bonds that have him trapped to the table, trying to get away from the butcher working on the mech's face. His lips are parted in a constant silent scream, the static released from his throat filled with fear and agony.

The bright blue seeker finally falls still when Ratchet steps away, his hands dripping with energon. In one hand, the medic holds seven different tools, all ready to be used again. In his other hand, the Autobot holds the flyer's right optic. If Starscream hadn't been sedated, he would have purged. It is quite common some bots give up parts or sometimes whole limbs to one another, but this is taking the crown. The transfer is _always_ done under complete sedation due to the immense pain and trauma it can cause to have something simply severed from your body. This often happened when someone important was damaged, it not uncommon a soldier would give up hands or optics or anything else to a medic who could fix many more injured if needed. Or a high ranked officer giving parts to an engineer, who could create new parts in a quick motion.

"In the city of fallen angels…" Starscream can only endure the doctor's fussing with his head as he installs the new optic, though it is less disturbing feeling then when the medic was working to remove remnants. The seeker feels empathy for the other flyer, who has once again resorted to silent pleading. More so for his mate in the Autobot dungeon. What their enemy will do to him, to his unborn sparkling is a mystery. Starscream doesn't want to know.

More time passes as Ratchet finishes with his patient, the other flyer completely forgotten it seems. Somewhere along the way Starscream fades into recharge. He can't tell how long he is out, his chronometer not replaced like he had hoped. He didn't even know he was out until the moment he came back online to a cleaned med bay.

And a mostly empty med bay.

There is… nothing wrong with the seeker. His CPU gives no warnings, no hiccups, no abnormalities.

Dread fills the flyer's spark again, fear for a great deal of things on a list that keeps expanding with every waking moment he spends in this hellhole. He has been treated like a prince, received repairs ordered by a powerful, influential mech that has had his optics on the seeker for much longer then Starscream wants to admit. But all of that is not a reality here. He knows the stories that came from prisoners that did manage to escape, knows of the nightmares that are as real as fact itself. _Kill yourself._ Crosses his CPU and is the most sensible idea he has had yet.

He pushes himself into a sitting position, back protesting because he has been lying in a difficult position for too long. But nothing else. He is not even bound. Two freshly restored blue optics glide to the right, landing upon the other recharging form. Aside from missing an optic and probably a great deal of his sanity, the other flyer seems right. Starscream lowers his gaze to himself to inspect. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is missing, or _added_, should he believe _those_ stories of the Autobot Hatchet.

For someone with such a disastrous reputation, Ratchet has treated him well.

With a soft sigh through clean vents the seeker gently hops off the berth, careful not to make a sound. He doesn't know where the medic is or how he will react to the flyer up and about around his lab. There is a limp caused by a fresh weld deep inside of his right leg, once more causing a surprise just how good he was fixed. The trapped figure on the other berth begins to stir online. Starscream is next to him in a few more steps, one of his hands subconsciously moving up towards a wing to gently stroke it. The static that emits from the other's throat is softer then it used to be, his self repair system probably trying to fix the damage. Other then his throat the blue seeker seems fine, just a few dents and scratches, not as bad as most prisoners that are brought in.

A single optic rolls upward, the blue light flickering with recognition and relaxation. Starscream doesn't know this mech, but it might not be like that the other way around.

He had known a lot of different bots long ago, but all of them were lost during the war. Blessed by Primus with a quick processor and creators who could afford it, Starscream found himself attending the Science Academy at a young age. He made friends left and right, many of them interested in such a smart nerd with the design of a fighter jet. The first few years had been wonderful, until everything started to go downhill. The Autobot faction, back then led by a mech called Sentinel Prime, was growing power hungry.

The Crystal City had been one of the first cities they took, though violence had been spared. With the city, the Science Academy. Though everything seemed to be on the softening side, had Starscream known he would be providing the enemy faction with a new target to obsess over, he would have left the academy the moment he was given the chance.

A shrug, followed by more silence as the Decepticon Second softly strokes the wing of the other flyer to assure him, to calm him. Starscream had been so…

…stupid. For the lack of a better word.

Optimus Prime is a talented actor. Always has been, even back then. Or the feelings were very real, which would be even more disturbing. Then the feelings would still be very, very real. It is something he will find out soon enough probably.

Most likely.

Starscream had been working with gamma radiation caught from a distant sun to see if he could turn it into a clean energy source. Energon has always been a problem, but great effort is always made to find newer, cleaner, more productive sources of energy. His work was no secret, and had long before drawn the attention of the Autobots.

Orion Pax, was his name at the time, before the red and black mech was crowned Prime.

A mech that made a young Starscream fidget with nerves. He had been… overwhelmed by charisma and personality, not a trace of arrogance in Orion's words. And clever, he was very clever. He was no scientist, the seeker could tell, but did capture the idea of anything Starscream would explain to him. Charming too… Orion had been so charming. They spoke of science the first few times Orion came by. Though an Autobot, the mech was well respected due to his interest in science, his awareness of the importance of several projects. Orion would visit on random days, seemingly doing it off schedule but Starscream still isn't sure if that was the case.

All he knows is that he began to look forward to those visits.

So did Orion.

The visits became considerably more frequent, and not all of them were for the progress Starscream, or anyone in the academy, was making. The seeker didn't care. Though he took great care for his project, it didn't seem all that important when the mech would come by. They would talk, about a lot of things, important or not. On the last visit Orion made they had kissed, and Orion was good at even that. It had been slightly awkward, Starscream had never kissed another before. When it ended, too soon he had been left hungry for more, wanting much, much more from the larger mech. The other had been hungry long before that kiss, but had passed starvation at the intimate act they committed. There had been madness shining in those bright red optics back then but Starscream refused to acknowledge it. He simply refused to see the instability. The flyer blames it on a stupid crush caused by too many hormones afflicting a mech making the transfer from youngling to adult. But he was in love, so there are a lot of things to blame. And Orion was… is still… probably…

…well. There is a reason why Starscream is all patched up right now and not tortured to death, a fate more befitting the Decepticon SiC and Air Commander. Orion… well… Optimus…will want him back soon.

Sentinel Prime had been very busy at the time, speaking politics left and threats right, too busy to watch his own back. Orion took him down and became the Autobot leader Optimus Prime not long after. Cities began to burn. The war began. Caused by a group of Autobots desiring calamity.

Starscream only spoke to Orion… Optimus… one more time after the beginning of the war. And the mech had simply terrified the seeker. Promises of a Valhalla, of a kingdom for them to rule. Thousands had been killed, and millions more would follow the Prime promised him. Starscream would rule the galaxy alongside his mate, they would become Gods. Strange how only cycles before Starscream would have given anything to hear that mech utter a proposal like that. The seeker had envisioned himself growing happily bonded with the Autobot, had seen them have sparklings, a family.

The seeker had rejected the ridiculous proposal immediately. He didn't want a war, didn't want to rule like a tyrant. The flyer lived for science, and although he did fall in love with the Autobot, that mistake quickly sorted itself out when the monster behind the face mask showed its teeth.

Starscream's family was murdered two cycles later.

Crystal City itself was torched to ashes.

The death toll ran into the millions.

And Starscream had a newfound stalker in his life.

They did not speak person to person until long after that. A time Starscream is not fond of remembering.

The doors open once more, two Autobots stepping in. Without a word the seeker turns to them, albeit reluctant to leave the other mech on the table. "See? Fine." Ratchet seems awfully pleased with himself, for once actually doing his job as a medic can be very rewarding. The other black and white bot, Jazz again, is staring at the seeker with wild interest. "We're leaving. Prime is waiting." _If you like him so much why don't _you_ bond with him?_ The seeker keeps to himself, knowing full well such a comment will bring him straight into the Hatchet's arms again.

Not that being shoved into the arms of the Prime is something he looks forward too.

Jazz is a blur of movement, stepping up to the seeker in a klik. With a rough pull the Autobot begins dragging the seeker along. Before they leave the room Starscream turns once more, spotting Ratchet standing near his new victim with a hacksaw in hand and a sick grin on his face. "Long ass fucking time ago, in a town called Kickapoo…"

Again, he feels for the flyer strapped to the berth.

The maze of corridors twists and turns at points that seem unorthodox. They ascent a stairwell Starscream does not remember being here, but it could be blamed on his muddled CPU. Another corridor when they reach the top, twisting to an immediate right. The entire stronghold consists of metal and stone, an impenetrable fortress build by an army of slaves. That is one of the many regrets weighing down on the flyer's spark. At a certain point in the war all of Cybertron fell, its inhabitants forced to scatter and flee. Megatron had led a small army of civilians and Decepticons to this little planet. Earth… had welcomed them in a way. The small creatures, humans, had been in high exalts to meet aliens. It had been a wonderful experience, to meet a species that made use of space travel as well, however short their trips may be. At one point Soundwave had opted that it may have been signals from Earth they had been picking up on their home planet, a signal the humans send out to find alien contact as intelligent as they. The signal must have travelled for many years.

As warm as any welcome to a foreign planet may have been, more pain it brought when the Prime landed as well one year later, having gathered his forces and over running the planet in a matter of weeks. Millions of humans were killed during the struggles, many, many more enslaved. The Decepticons had done what they could to help, to fight against Prime and his vast army. But for every Decepticon, there were a hundred Autobots. Now, seven years after the Autobots have landed on Earth, their numbers having tripled, if not more. And the Decepticons dwindle to near extinct because of the last attack of the Autobots.

Someone screams far away, the shrill cry echoing through the otherwise empty hallways of the stronghold. It sounds like something from a horror movie. Terror and pain were called out, but Jazz seems unfazed as he drags the seeker into a room, mostly empty save for the most basic of furniture. The Autobot comes to a full stop in the middle of the room, not releasing the seeker in his grip. "You'll stay here…" The Autobot nods to himself, scanning the room slowly. "For now." The grip on his arm loosens and Starscream makes haste to put distance between himself and the Sub-Commander.

Jazz has yet to finish scanning, so the Decepticon does the same. A berth, a desk with a chair, a table with two more chairs on two sides and a pad case filled to the brim with datapads. There is a steel ornament in the corner of the room close to Starscream, but that is the only thing that could make this room even remotely homely. There is another door on the opposite wall of the door they entered through, probably to a washing room.

"…for preparations…" The Autobot mumbles to himself, as if to confirm it. What could he mean by that? "Your behaviour is good. Aims to keep it that way." The advice doesn't sound like an order. It seems well meant. "Prime will be pleased." And that is what the strangely loyal soldier is aiming for.

His back turned to the otherwise unarmed seeker, is a mistake that will engrain itself into the saboteur's CPU. The loud clank of metal upon metal seems to vibrate through the small room, followed by a startled grunt and painful clattering of a body hitting the mostly stone floor. Jazz isn't out with one blow, the flyer knows this much. So he strikes again, with as much force as he possesses. The steel ornament had dented during the first impact, now gives way completely and breaks in two. It is discarded to the floor, landing near the now struggling Autobot. Starscream doesn't wait for him to get up and sets it to a moving.

He doesn't get far when he slams into probably the last bot he'd want to run in to. A strong arm wraps around his lower back to keep him in place, but it isn't necessary. Starscream is near petrified with shock.

"I will fragging murder you…" The hissing mech is recovering quickly, hurling up energon and his neck is bent in an unnatural way. Prime is probably the only reason why the smaller mech has yet to make due to his promise. The Autobot leader is rumbling with dismay, noting the injuries on his loyal soldier. "This will not go unpunished." The soft pledge is laden with a gentleness that makes the flyer's energon run cold for the umpteenth time this day. Jazz has fallen silent, even his shaking lessens severely.

"It's not that bad…" He murmurs. To that, Optimus actually laughs. "I will deal with it." A solid promise, soft but laced with venom. Starscream hasn't heard this brooding tone in a very long time.

The small Autobot salutes his leader, gives a curt nod before making his leave. This time, the door is locked behind the Prime, leaving him and the flyer alone.

"Well darling." The purr is foreboding, as is the hand reaching for the flyer's chin. It lifts the seeker's head up as the Autobot lord leans a little closer, tracing his hand to the back of the seeker's helm with a gentleness that could not possibly come from the same hands that mangled sparklings just for fun, brought torment and death just for the thrill of giving it. Starscream brings his hands up to push against the larger mech's chest, talons scratching the glass of the lord's windshield glass. Optimus doesn't budge an inch. "Now that I have you at last…" Blue optics try to venture anywhere but the Autobot's face. Not succeeding.

"I will never let you go again."

-TBC

Song: Kickapoo by Tenacious D


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for abuse, torture, violence, gore. Sadism. OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware. My first real Non-Con ever, scary. Warning may expand in the future.

Beta: My brand new and shiny Francesca Zatnik!

A/N: So here we have the right update. I received the proof read edition from my shiny new beta, but updated the wrong file. This one is the fixed one.

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

Starscream knows his CPU isn't one-hundred percent functional.

He is plagued with glitches and little hiccups, and always has been; Irregularity caused by an over clocked processor. The seeker has learned to live with it, because he knows there are bots much sicker in the head then he is; much, much more messed up then he.

Now he questions his sanity again, the moment his mate-to-be retracted his battle mask, revealing a calm face dressed with a soft and inviting smile. The seeker had sputtered, confusing old feelings resurfacing. The thought '_As handsome as he ever was,'_ crosses his CPU. He doesn't _want_ to know what caused _that_ glitch, it sickens him; makes him feel like a traitor. Bitter confusion rattles over his circuits the same way the obnoxiously gentle hand is cupping his face, lifting his chin in a matter a lover would. The same way Orion would years and years back.

But Orion is dead.

And in his place Optimus hadn't suspected the sudden refusal of his touches. The mech is now favouring an injured hand, four deep welds caused by sharp talons running over the back dripping at a steady pace. The large mech doesn't seem intimidated, doesn't seem angry. He doesn't seem _anything_ as he just stares at the smaller mech now standing on the other side of the small room.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" An optical ridge rises in question. This isn't Optimus Prime. This isn't a monster known throughout the galaxy for a short temper and a disastrous bad humour. A chuckle finally escapes the warlord's vocals, his lips once again drawing into a smile. What disturbs the seeker is that the Autobot is so… tolerant about this. "Every couple has their little spats."

"Don't call us that…" It was supposed to be a shout, not a low, whispered hiss. It sounded desperate coming from his vocaliser. The seeker is backing away from the larger mech, frantic for a way out.

There is none, he knows.

"I know you are upset…" This is an understatement of inconceivable proportions. "…I understand. You have lost, your faction is no more." The seeker shivers uncontrollably, staring at the other in uncertainty.

"You're lying…" Another hiss, the seeker is having problems finding his voice. When the Prime takes a step towards the flyer he takes one back, and the process repeats itself twice before Starscream is backed into the wall behind him. "Lying…" It's toned down to a whisper, more to convince himself.

In the one tick he casts his optics to the spotless floor the other moves, stepping up to him and embracing him. An arm encircles his waist before the seeker can stop him, trapped between a metal wall and a metal chassis. "We attacked six Decepticon bases." And that is all he needs to say. There _were_ only six Decepticon bases left. Blue optics rise to glare at the larger mech. Optimus isn't bothered, too preoccupied with the beauty of his obsession to care for the heated glower aimed at him. He smiles again, brushing faint fingertips over a smooth metal cheek. Cold. His seeker has yet to be fed. His thumb brushes over the smaller mech's lower lip, caressing it gently before moving to the cheek again. His hand moves up slightly, cupping the other's face backwards. The soft smile gracing his own lips twitches slightly in amusement, before they part. The smaller frame is slowly beginning to tremble, the hands placed against his chest curling into tightening fists, the wings on the seeker's back drooping.

Acceptance is a maddening thing to deal with.

"We took very few prisoners." The seeker's lips draw into a thin line, his optics steeling up in brewing resentment. The bigger mech finally breaks a true grin, sharp teeth finally visible. "Just to be done with it." He mocks the former SiC with glee. The smile doesn't leave his face when the seeker suddenly brings a hand up and punches him across the jaw, as hard as one can from such proximity. Starscream begins to thrash, lost in a fit caused by mere days filled with stress and trepidation. The short struggle ends as quickly as it began when Optimus presses himself against the smaller frame, pushing the flyer fully into the wall behind him. Starscream tries to kick him when his hands are incapacitated above his helm, scratching the paint of the larger mech's left leg with his own thrusters.

The seeker finally snaps in anger and screeches with fury when he loses the ability to move completely as the other pins him. The heavy body of the larger mech doesn't budge no matter what the flyer does. Starscream tries to bite, his last resort, and Prime backs away slightly when the seeker goes for his face, releasing one of the smaller mech's wrists in favour of grabbing him high in the throat, forcing him to keep his head still. The free hand comes down on a shoulder and begins creating thin lines, the claws scraping over it with an antagonising screeching. However, the armour of the Prime is thick, and it will take more then a prying talon to hurt him.

Hot air brushes over the flyer's face when the other traces his lips over the seeker's face, ever so lightly with a touch barely there. Starscream can see that horrible smile _still_ on the Autobot's face, before it disappears out of sight as the Prime leans in to brush his lips over a sensitive audio receiver on the side of his head. "Megatron cried for you." He rumbles softly, making the flyer halt his movement. "His last thoughts were for _you_." The whisper is malicious, meant to hurt him but the bigger mech is affected by it as well. Resentment and venom drip from his tone, and his engine rumbles in anger, gears grinding in strain. Starscream has fallen silent, trembling harder. The anger is leaving him, dragging a trail of exhaustion with it to be replaced with a sorrow of loss. The lack of proper rest and energon is beginning to show. His breath hitches in his throat when the Autobot looks him dead in the optics, the usually mocking crimson now a deep, livid scarlet. They soften when Optimus gains control of himself before his temper goes wild, reigning himself in when reality hits him again.

Megatron has been dealt with and he, Prime, has who he has wanted for so very long. There is nothing left that can take the seeker from him. They both know it.

The larger mech purrs softly, relaxing slightly. "He will no longer poison you with lies. I made sure of it." The promise flows from those lips as if the phrase has been said over and over and _over_, has been practiced and repeated thousands of times. It is as if the other is stating this more for himself then for Starscream, as if he needs to convince himself again that the grey gun former _will_ never take what he claims belongs to him. Uncertainty bordering on madness. The seeker casts his optics down, willing the anguish that is weighing on his spark away. He didn't know, many hadn't known. Didn't want to know, or _accept_, that the inevitable happened. To them, Megatron was a great leader, and a strong warrior. The Decepticons had been fighting a losing battle for millennia, but he never gave up. Even in the last days before he went missing the gun former had led his army with a very contagious optimism.

Too bad they fell three days later, crushed under the Autobot rule.

"I made sure of it." The red and black mech repeats softly, brushing his lips over the seeker's. When they meet the kiss is gentle, lovingly gentle. It is the same as their first and only kiss long ago, the larger mech cautious but hungry. Starscream doesn't have the energy left to fight back when the other brushes his glossa over his still closed lips, asking for entrance even though the larger mech will take it anyway. Too much has been stomped onto his spark, too much loss and pain caused by a mech with a grudge and an unyielding fixation. The flyer shivers when his energon begins to run cold, the loss of energy and heavy emotion causing a catatonic state of mind. The unfairness of the whole situation begins to pull at the strings of his CPU, assaulting him with doom scenarios and things _he_ could have done to prevent _all of this_ from happening. The Prime deepens the kiss slightly, as if still uncertain, as if kissing a person he really loves, someone he doesn't want to harm in any way possible. The flyer's spark clenches when he realises this, his body jerking in a hiccup when the bigger mech moves a hand to caress the side of his face again.

Removing his hand from that pretty face the Prime traces it downward, caressing cables on the side of the flyer's neck gently before going lower, tracing seams and plating that is growing colder even though the larger mech begins to heat up in dormant desires. The hand comes to a stop on the middle of the flyer's chest, above the enforced glass of the seeker's cockpit. Beneath it the pulsation of his obsession's spark is hammering caused by dread and a sudden anticipation.

The Autobot knows that spark will belong to him soon, and it hacks chunks out of his self control. He tenses greatly and practically throws himself onto the smaller mech, much to the other's displeasure. Starscream yelps when the hand on his lower back curls its claws, digging into seems and causing a painful stabbing feeling. The other hand is on the back of his neck, drawing the seeker as close as possible when the other begins to assault his mouth without restraint, thrusting his glossa in and dominating the smaller former completely. With a groan Starscream pushes himself into the other when the pressure on his lower back becomes too much, the claws of the other puncturing his frail armour and digging into seams and wires connected to his sensitive wings. Optimus misinterpreted his action as one of submission and want, growling deeply as he tries to taste every inch of his new mate. When the seeker begins to struggle with newfound energy he can only groan, his dark spark fluttering with a craving that has taken him so long to fulfil.

More of his self control is dwindling when he begins tasting energon, the raw flavour causing his systems to be engulfed with a heat that begins to hurt. For too long has the seeker fled him, for too long has Starscream refused him. It had brought him to a point of perpetual anguish, desiring to create a bond with his mate. Bots that have been denied were known to do strange and rash things, and Optimus has done his fair share of the impulsive. "Open for me." The growl, the _demand_ leaves his vocaliser before he comprehends it. The smaller mech begins to thrash as hard as he can, scraping his talons over his chassis, kicking with his powerful legs, screaming again in fear and rejection.

Prime has stripped the seeker of anything else, but what little Starscream can still call his own will not be given up without a fight. With a snarl the Decepticon goes for the other's lips, getting the hold of smooth metal flesh and clamping his jaws down, locking them and refusing to let go. If the larger mech wants to be released he better be ready to lose a chunk of meat. The Autobot releases an infuriated growl, raking his claws over the seeker's exposed side. One of his sharp fingers digs into a seam with nerve bundles huddling close by, drawing across them and opening them. Starscream wails as the stretching pain becomes too much to bear, releasing the other's lips only to have his own claimed again. The harsh bite in return is anything but forgiving, the taste of his and the other's energon making his tanks churn.

In all the commotion the flyer fails to see a cord extracting itself from its housing beneath the Prime's undamaged shoulder. It coils around itself a couple of times before snaking over the large mech's armour. Blue optics snap towards it when it releases a hiss, small pincers and needles clicking with an ominous resonance. Before Starscream can grab it both his hands are pinned directly above his head again, the hold nearly unbreakable. It becomes painfully obvious what the larger mech is going to do, even before the cable snakes towards the centre of the seeker's chest. Just above the flyer's cockpit there is a crevice hidden beneath very thin plating. The cable goes for it without hesitance, using a tiny drill to dig through the armour and bury itself into the crevice, attacking the sensor node connected to his spark chamber.

When the wire connects, using electric cables to transmit data bursts, a slow, dull processor ache begins to brew in the back of the flyer's CPU. Override codes are tearing his self defence system down, waltzing over it as if it wasn't there in the first place. The hacking is quick and efficient, overriding protection protocols. Starscream's spark lurches with dread when he feels wires begin to move inside of him, gears grinding and metal locks coming of their hinges. Within kliks his chest opens, the hacking effort moving on to his now exposed spark chamber.

With a purr of arousal Optimus releases his partner's lips in favour of his neck, drawing his sharp teeth over cables that really shouldn't be damaged. The smaller mech whimpers when he inwardly struggles to get his CPU in check, to get his damn virus protection back online but nothing is working. He stops fighting the larger mech physically, concentrating on the unfamiliar and unwelcome codes coursing through his circuits. He can hear more gears groan as the chest plates of the Prime part as well. The flyer off lines his optics, concentrating on the cable still latched onto the sensor node. It is stretching now, having moved considerably lower due to the seeker's chest opening. Optimus doesn't seem bothered by it. With a bit of difficulty Starscream locates the cable's own sensory net, sending a data burst as strong as he can muster. The invasive tentacle hitches, its programming meddled, leaving the other free to cut it off. Of course the mech assaulting him knows exactly what is going on, and digs his claws in to the sensitive skin of the flyer's wings, which he had left undamaged intentionally. Energon blood begins to drip from the punctures already, but they turn into streams when the Autobot rakes his claws downwards, tearing an agonized scream from the flyer's lips.

There is nothing that can torment a flyer more then assailing their wings.

It gives the cable the time it needs to recover and resume its hacking. Within kliks Starscream's spark chamber begins to unlatch and open, revealing his spark to the other mech. "No, please." Soft lips trace the side of his face lovingly, pressing soft, soothing kisses to the metal. Prime's own spark chamber is already opened, his spark clenching and pulsating with power. The black and purple energy is already reaching for the smaller flyer's spark, begging for a connection with small trails of red lighting lines. "Stop…" His legs buckle beneath him, the strain he has put them through too much to keep standing. Fluid begins to build up behind his optics, the desperation and hopelessness of the situation hitting him.

The Prime is purring softly, trembling with want. Data has already begun exchanging between them, emotions and feelings and their whole being slowly trickling into one connection. With a thumb he brushes one of the streams of optical fluid away, moving his lips to the other side of the flyer's face to kiss the other stream away too. A soft sound escapes him, a quiet, soothing sound that only serves to make the flyer beg again. His pleas fall on deaf audios. The warlord brings their chests together slowly, feeling his spark nearly jump the flyer's. Whatever Starscream has wanted to say is drowned out by a chocked sob, the seeker's body wrecking with tremors and fresh tears dripping down his cheeks.

Heat begins to build up inside of the flyer, the energy caused by their entwining sparks is beginning to run through his circuitry like a small fire spreading into an inferno. Data consisting of mostly memories begins to exchange between them, and for Starscream they are anything but pleasant. There are a few early memories, a few great and detailed events Orion once held dear. Several bots, some of them Starscream knows from the academy even. Sentinel Prime appears in a few of them, along with two striking femmes. Their designations are lost to the seeker as they are dubbed the Prime's creators, but they fall into the background to strong memories of, surprise, their time spent at the academy. Starscream visibly flinches at the powerful surge of emotions suddenly cascading down on him.

He knew Orion had fallen for him like he had for Orion, and the pain caused by the flyer's rejection. More data flows, memories of battle, of obsessions, of unreal fury, of a powerful desire to mate with the only mech Prime has ever deemed worthy.

One of the last memories assaulting the seeker, and which will most likely haunt him for vorns to come, is the death of his glorious leader. Messy, violent, unforgiving. Optimus Prime had raged, had snapped like a little, frail twig and had battled the gun former with a vigour never shown before. The Autobot had been afraid, afraid of Megatron, afraid of the other Decepticons, afraid of everyone he couldn't control with an iron fist. He was afraid of everyone who had a chance of taking Starscream before he could. It is… sad how fixated Prime has been on the seeker, wanting to claim him due to an emotion as simple and pathetic as a crush. What hurts so much is how vigorous the memory of the last clash of the two titans was. Megatron had fought but was no match for a nearly frantic Prime. The Decepticon lord has died a slow, messy death and even after that Optimus had raged for hours on end, attacking what was left of the gun former's body until there was no more left to damage, concentrating on trivial things around him until several Autobots had ventured too close to him. They met an equally messy end, until some had the intelligence to let him rampage until he tired himself out.

The memories begin to make place for deeper emotions. For years all Starscream has seen were shadows and glimpses of a monster spit out of Hell itself. Rumours that turned out to be nothing but the truth followed the stories told from bot to bot. Messages would come in after great battles the Prime had participated, bringing a massacre of which the victims were lucky if they were killed. The sheer lust for causing damage and pain and death is immense as it courses through the soul of the flyer. He sees nothing but a monster, a creature wanting to cause nothing but calamity to the world.

Starscream throws his head back with a clang against the wall, gasping for air, trying to get the smell, taste and _feel_ of energon from his sensors. The feeling of energon dripping from his chassis, a phantom feeling Optimus must love to experience ghosts over his every inch. He groans when he feels armour crack beneath his hands, cables snapping between his teeth, spark chambers crushed beneath his feet. Glee and perverse satisfaction cascade over his entire frame. Starscream has killed before, for the cause of the good. Killing Autobots had become routine, but never had he felt the satisfaction of ending a life. Off lining his enemies always left a bad taste on his glossa, even if he ended a key figure in this ongoing war. But never has the seeker experienced a sheer love for killing, for making his enemies cry and beg and bleed. Prime indulged himself in his victims, torturing them to death and getting a sick kick out of it. Prime's favourite sound of a spinal strut breaking under bare hands ghosts through his CPU, cracking and snapping and _breaking_.

A strong surge of access energy makes him jolt, his wings begin to quiver and a new heat begins to crawl over his most sensitive circuits. The wave leaves a tingle running through his lower legs and wings, the most responsive parts of his body. The smell of pain and fear and sickening madness is scrambling with his processors, throwing him into a delirium of heat and craving. Only a small voice is still screaming that none of this is him, that all of this is coming from the Autobot forcing him into an unwanted spark bond. Another strong pulse, stronger then the one before has the seeker reeling, his whole frame trembling on its waves. Love is bleeding through their connection, an emotions too unreal for a mech so filled with lunacy and bloodlust.

It is all becoming too much as Optimus shifts slightly, releasing his wrists in favour of tracing a seam on the flyer's hip. The sensitive wires underneath increase the arousal clouding the smaller mech's processor tenfold, making him gasp and moan. The flyer's hands curled into fists land messily on each of the other's shoulders, one of them sliding slightly forward to rest on the large chest. Both their vents are working over time to keep them at least partially cooled, failing as their sparks are causing their core temperatures to skyrocket.

Starscream can't help but moan louder with the next crashing wave, lost in the pleasure of their heat and the hallucination of raking his claws through an unknown victim's chassis, making him bleed, making him cry, making him beg for an end not likely to come soon. Whatever this glitch, Optimus must be causing it, lost in his own euphoria and doubtlessly the one causing the pleasurable drumming through their bodies. Memories, their entire being is beginning to dwindle to the back ground, leaving only them and them alone together.

It presents the break his CPU has been craving for, desperately trying to dig back into reality. When the seeker finally regains some sense of what is happening and the delirium finally passes he is already too far gone, claws raking over the larger mech's armour in a desperate fit to draw him closer. When their mouths meet once more he returns the kiss fervently, still riding on the love his new bondmate has been drowning him with during their merge. The arousal caused by the access energy is slowly taking its toll, causing the smaller flyer to tremble and groan with every pulse. He moans into the kiss and returns it even, trying to fight just for the sheer pleasure of fighting itself. When the other mech growls deeply it makes him weak in the knees, the primal sound deep and guttural.

Their lips part for only a klik. "Please…" He doesn't even know what he is begging for but his mate can only growl with want, slamming their lips together again and bringing their energy, their arousal to newer heights. Starscream moans into the other's lips, feeling his end approaching. When the other suddenly grinds their bodies together he throws his head back, mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure. The energy coursing hot through his system finally reaches its peak, throwing him over the edge. His voice pitches when he screams, calling some unknown god in ecstasy. His mate follows him into an instant of oblivion, locking his jaws hard on several neck cables and drawing rivers of energon.

The sheer torture the smaller mech was forced to endure finally begins to subside, leaving a hot trail of illness in its wake. The heat between their bodies is slowly fading, along with that the surge of energy Starscream has been experiencing. As the larger mech begins to pull back he feels himself grow exceptionally weak, as if the other has drained his energy from him. The Prime's spark releases his with loving caresses, not truly wanting to be separated but knowing it has to be done for their bond to truly settle. Sparks retreat to their respective chambers, which begin to close down and lock once again, chest plates following shortly after.

If it hadn't been for Optimus holding him up, Starscream would have fallen.

They remain together like this, vents slowly cooling their bodies down. Prime remains unmoving and Starscream sags against him, exhaustion rippling through his chassis. The other mech holds him close, running a now free hand over the damaged wing, tracing the small rivulets of energon there lovingly, as if his touch were to calm the injuries and heal them. The flyer can't even tremble anymore, CPU going blank and systems shutting down with urgency. Optimus finally backs away slightly, still holding him up with two arms. The seeker feels lips softly press against his helm for the slightest of moments before he is guided to the berth in the room.

Another soft kiss pressed to his helm before the large Autobot lets him down, continues to shower him with unwanted affection. The berth is awfully inviting and Starscream can feel himself relax the moment he hits it. Stress and exhaustion have become too much. All he wants now is recharge, just sleep and just be _gone_ for just a few hours.

He receives a final soft peck on the lips, one that he should receive from a lover. The other mech pets his helm fondly, an uncharacteristically soft smile gracing his lips again. If he thinks back on what just transpired Starscream doesn't know who's lost it harder, himself or the Prime.

They had been silent the whole time, their connection allowing the Autobot to send emotions and thoughts his way, through they are still a bit warbled due to the freshness of the bond. Love is ever present; love is all he receives now. A fake promise he will become _happy_ as the overlord's bondmate. Starscream could never become happy like this, mated with madness itself. He has seen but a glimpse of what the mech truly is, and monstrosity is just an underestimation.

The Prime doesn't leave his side until the seeker slips into recharge, eager to let the darkness claim him now. There is too much to think about, too much in one go for him to handle. The other allows him to rest. The flyer sleeps for an unknown amount of time, a deep and dreamless rest. He is never disturbed, seeing how tired he truly was.

…

Waking up has never been this unpleasant.

The nausea curling through his tank is caused by the after-effects of a strong sedative. There is an oily taste left in his mouth and his CPU is having trouble restarting several programs. Even his optics online slowly, rebooting three times before they finally flicker on. Next are his audio receivers. They online with a soft click. It takes a few moments for the seeker to decipher the sounds coming from his right. He rolls his head to the side, optics falling on a black and white back. The Autobot is speaking to someone else, his voice soft as he discusses what they are going to do.

"He is the Prime's bondmate now! Not a chance in the Pit I'm letting him walk around with those disgusting symbols on his chassis."

Jazz shuffles.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do this…"

Jazz shrugs.

"That's what I thought."

Starscream shutters his optics for a moment, trying to will the blinding light to be any less bright. It's not working in the least. "Well I'm still gonna!" Jazz hisses, seemingly angered. Something heavy clashes on the same table Starscream occupies, startling the flyer fully awake. His blue optics fall on the saboteur, and he doesn't like what he sees.

The Autobot is up to something vile.

The Decepticon insignia is painted in a certain pattern on a bot's body, depending on whether it is a grounder or a flyer. The chest usually receives an emblem, the shoulders or under arms. A flyer gets them on each wing, both the front and back. A femme or some of the more slender male bots have one on their backs, be it right beneath the neck or on the lower back. But whenever a Decepticon has one placed, it is always painted on. With a strong metal inside the paint to that it is as strong as the actual paint job on one's chassis. A long story short, it can be painted over.

Autobots do it a little different. The paint is removed with a grinder, until the base layer is completely clean. The sparkling grey layer is then cleaned with a burning cleanser, before the Autobot insignia is carved into the metal. The burn is described as immensely painful. When that is done the cut is branded shut, welded down and causing more damage then good to the metal and wiring beneath and around it. The whole procedure takes a very long time and when finished, the emblem cannot be removed unless the whole sheet of armour is removed.

Imply put, Starscream is not looking forward to what is coming.

The Autobot is assembling a blade, replacing the dull knife for a sharper, stronger one. He suddenly halts his movement as if listening to something. His head slowly lifts from his tool, soon tilting to the left. A wide smirk is already stuck on his face when he turns completely, fiery red optics landing on the seeker behind him. Starscream feels himself grow exceptionally cold. The other mech chuckles softly to himself, checking the strength of the blade on his own fingertips. Pleased when the blade flows though his metal skin like butter the Autobot turns towards the table.

"We better get started or you'll be late…" Sharp fingertips ghost over the Decepticon emblem on the flyer's left wing. Starscream shudders at the touch, turning his head away in disgust. "Let's get rid of this first." The touch disappears. A very short silence follows before it is disturbed by the loud roar of a grinder. The seeker's head snaps back at the sound, optics going wide in horror. He begins to wriggle against the chains but they don't budge. His wrists are hurting already, straining with a raw burn. His legs are also bound, lower legs wrapped up in chains so that he can't pull them back to kick at all. The flyer can only grind his teeth when the Autobot begins working on his right wing, sanding the Decepticon logo from the sensitive plating. The burn is bearable, the heat slowly caressing the entire span of his wing. Just as quickly as he begins Jazz stops again, taking the grinder from the wing and inspecting his work critically.

When Starscream's optics fall on the now raw patch of plating he begins to feel… empty. A whole part of who he is was encrypted on his wings. He winches painfully when the Autobot brushes his fingers over the hot metal, icy fingers sending strong jolts of pain through the wiring beneath. "Much better don't you think?" The saboteur twists his head to the side as if asking someone else, but he and the flyer are alone. Starscream has no time to reminisce when Jazz retrieves a dark calyx from his subspace pocket, inspecting it shortly before unscrewing the top. The seeker gapes at it, knowing full well what it is. He whimpers a soft plead which turns into an all out screech when the burning acid hits his wing. The other mech is generous as he pours the substance over the spot, setting it ablaze even though nothing changes visibly on the area.

The flyer is panting loudly by the time he manages to pull himself back together. His core temperature has risen dramatically and his whole wing and back feel as if they are being licked by fire. The spot itself is releasing a soft, damp smoke barely visible, the acid having its desired effect.

"Wasn't so bad was it?" Jazz, ever the optimist, begins cleaning the acid away with a ragged cloth, harsly swiping it up and causing the flyer to groan in pain again. When done the 'bot moves away again with a jolt of energy, messily dumping the grinder and the calyx on the large workbench. The grinder clatters heavily, tools and small parts around it scattering with the impact.

Just as quick as he went to the table, he is back next to the seeker with paint in hand. Where he got that from simply befuddles the flyer. "T is white. Like your pretty wing." He smiles, like a friend would. When the paintbrush lands on the flyer's heated metal plating, the cool of the paint instantly soothes the burning sensations. Starscream's wires tingle in relaxation, clearly appreciating the coolness. If this were any other situation, Starscream would have sighed. The paint dries shortly after it is coated, hiding the vague pattern where the Decepticon emblem used to be. The seeker's lips draw in a thin line and he glares at the saboteur, not getting a reaction. "Such a pretty wing." He comments softly, tracing his fingers over the spot _again_. The paint has dried accordingly, pleasing him.

"How big should I make the brand?" Starscream feels an optic twitch. "I think imma make it the same size as that ugly thing."

The flyer remains wisely silent. Jazz doesn't care as he lifts the recently assembled knife and inspects it again. It gleams ominously in the light, reflecting the red glare of the Autobot's optics when he twists it around. Another smile graces the saboteur's lips, slowly growing and splitting his face into a grin.

Starscream can only clench his jaws again when the Autobot leans down and presses the smooth blade against his wing. The tip easily slides into the metal as he makes a long stroke downwards, setting the first line of the Autobot brand. The first stroke doesn't draw energon, and neither do the second or third. But when Jazz repeats the same line for the forth time, the metal parts and energon begins to well up from the cut. The 'bot makes another slice, and keeps repeating it until he has hacked through deep enough. This was just the first line, and the flyer knows many more need to be done. Jazz begins cutting away, until the pain, which started out as gravely annoying, slowly mounted to unbearable once again. Starscream can wriggle and hiss all he wants, it isn't stopping the Autobot who is taking his sweet time disfiguring him. He doesn't seem bothered by the energon that has started to drip to one of the edges of the seeker's wing, has dripped over the sharp edge and is slowly dipping onto the table. The blade remains sharp, created out of a special and powerful alloy which will cut through anything. Just as long as its wielder takes their sweet time to inflict the slices.

Time is creeping by slowly. The agonising minutes ticking away as Jazz works on his little masterpiece. The flyer releases a soft sigh when the 'bot declares his finish. "This'll be great." He whispers softly, replacing the knife with a laser. The small tool is shaped like a pencil, powered by a powerful battery.

The seeker does scream when the laser is activated and connects with a random weld, the sizzle scorching the incision shut with a bubbling of metal. Starscream begins to thrash against his binds, trying to escape the intensity of the heat. The sensitive wiring directly beneath the burns is killed off, going numb, but the wires in the directly adjacent area flare with intense pain. Starscream has gone through pain in the past, has experienced pain in more ways than one,bBut the way the saboteur is dragging this out, - slowly, carefully dragging the laser over the lines of the fresh Autobot insignia, - is excruciating. Optical fluids begin to drip from his optics, his voice going hoarse from crying out, begging the 'bot to just stop this.

But when Jazz finally stops searing the engravings, and Starscream finally comes to himself again, it hits the seeker that the Autobot still needs to do this three more times.

"You'll be so pretty for the bash." The black and white mech chuckles, admiring his handiwork. "Prime will love it." He smiles, brushing his finger tips over the fresh brand. The rims are swollen he feels, slightly standing out from the smooth metal of the wing.

Prime will love it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for abuse, torture, violence, gore. Sadism. Alcohol like stuff abuse. Drug abuse maybe? OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware. My first real Non-Con ever, scary. Warning may expand in the future.

A/N: No A/N this time.

Beta: Proofread and made less sucky by Francesca Zatnik. Special thanks to you darling!

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

"See? I said it was going to be pretty." Jazz is pleased.

A strong hand grabs the seeker's left leg, lifting it for the hundredth time. His finger traces the new lines on the flyer's ankle. The streaks are finer then the streaks on the broad wings. The emblem is relatively small, but fitting on the long, slender legs. "Good idea." He murmurs, twisting the limb in the light for better inspection. He just as quickly drops it back on the table, continuing to unchain the newest member of the Autobot faction.

The clattering of the chains is only increasing the processor ache of the seeker. He groans pathetically, rubbing his now free hands over his optics. The saboteur is saying something, but that is lost when the Autobot begins to drag the chains over the floor. Their rattling is _loud_. Starscream off lines his optics, feeling the ache slightly lessens now that they are dark. He concentrates on his venting, trying to ignore the steady burn of his chassis. His wings have been branded on both sides, the appendages throbbing slowly. The burn has spread to his back, all the way across his back strut. Even though both ankles received only a small emblem, his entire legs feel like they are on fire. This torture has probably taken hours, while it could have been done under one. It's not a particular vicious punishment as known of the Autobots, but it was creative.

Jazz himself is in a particularly wonderful mood. Probably very pleased with himself for what he's done. As the seeker follows the saboteur through the confusing maze of the stronghold, limping greatly, the Autobot hums a tune. Actually humming, actually happy. When they pass a small group of other Autobot soldiers they scatter, sheer terror evident in their optics.

If they are afraid of the black and white Autobot when he's in a good mood, Starscream doesn't want to know how he will get when in a foul mood.

What the seeker can tell is that he is being led into the upper parts of the stronghold. The confusing lower corridors have shaken off their cold, eerie feeling of misfortune for a cold, white and unforgiving dread. Where the lower halls were silent, these vestibules are coming to life. There is more screaming from victims, more shouting from their tormentors. There is a soft, steady beat of metal hitting metal resonating, slowly increasing in volume as they near the source. The number of 'trophies' has dwindled in the main halls, but they have grown in gruesomeness. Starscream is starting to miss the body parts stapled and tied to the walls in the lower parts of the establishment. Here in the halls complete carcasses are bound to the walls, horribly mangled, long offline and deformed by the time spend hanging. The flyer looks back down to the spotless ground when they pass another body held up by razor wire and staples.

Had he taken time to look and remember, he would have recognised Longhaul.

They pass a set of doors, screaming coming from the inside, when Starscream is suddenly draws from his thoughts by a ghostly sensation. Azure optics look back over a shoulder vent, but so far he and Jazz are the only ones walking in this hallway. The feeling persists for a moment, and then diminishes when the flyer decides not to dwell on it. After a few silent moments the feeling returns, stronger than before, seeming to come from behind them again. It is truly as if there is another Transformer with them. A fleeting thought of the stalker Autobot Mirage crosses the flyer's CPU, but if he were following them, wouldn't Jazz be alerted? The presence is familiar, but Starscream still can't place it.

A screech sounding too close for comfort draws the flyer from _those_ thoughts, before an even louder cry of pain follows suit, causing the seeker to drop his wings lower in anxiety. The saboteur is undeterred by the wails as he round a corner, barking at the group of Autobots grouping together. Instead of fully throwing themselves out of the way as they should the Autobot flyers actually swoon and huddle even closer, presenting their superior their latest catch. Jazz, completely uncaring he is greatly outnumbered one to five, grabs their leader by a wing and pulls it down, menacing promises flowing from his lips like water. Their wing leader, who Starscream recognizes as Silverbolt fans out his wings and hisses. The other four finally back away, one of them dragging a barely conscious and barely functioning Decepticon with them.

Starscream's optics widen in recognition when they fall on the mangled mess. He doesn't know the 'Con very well, but just seeing anyone he _knows_ here makes the flyer's ember rise with anger. When one of the Aerialbots begins prying on the poor victim's body armor, trying to rip it off Starscream just reacts. The combiner is off and against a wall before he has time to screech with indignity, and their leader is soon kicking and screeching beneath the former Decepticon.

And then… they fall silent.

All of them.

Fireflight stops moving, having scrambled to his knees. The other three flyer's have gone completely silent, their wings dropping and their heads tilting. Jazz, who was looking absolutely murderous just a klik ago, does not remove Starscream from the pinned Aerialbot. Instead he salutes with a proud 'sir!', and Starscream knows Jazz is not saluting him.

Before the former SiC can turn around a powerful hand grabs him by the back of his neck, lifting him to stand straight, his claws shoot at the offending hand in reflex. The sheer power within the crushing grip wrenches a chocked wail from his vocaliser, the fingers of the broad hand wringing with merciless intent. The presence Starscream has felt earlier has returned full blast, and only now he understands who it belongs to.

"That was very low of you, seeker mine." His new bondmate rumbles, pulling the flyer closer to him. Starscream hates, _hates,_ that nickname already. With newfound resentment he begins to struggle, making sure to kick the downed Aerialbot before the Prime pulls him back against himself, the flyer's back touching the larger mech's front. The floored seeker finally gets to his pedes, hissing furiously while he and his mates scurry down the corridor, dragging their now offline victim with them. They promise retaliation; something Starscream doesn't care for.

Hot air brushes over the side of his helm, his new mate leaning in close. "Enough." The deep baritone is accompanied by the sudden impact against the wall, knocking the air out of his vents. The seeker groans, blinking the static away. His ember churns painfully when Optimus presses his larger frame against his, the sudden heat bursting through his circuits in a latent desire to merge again. The flyer hisses and thrashes as much as he can, tanks churning when his ember flares with need for that of the other, in a blatant desire to be one again.

Obviously, the larger mech hadn't expected this reaction. Where he had been angered by his new mate's behaviour, he is now visibly amused and equally affected. He places a large hand above the seeker's cockpit. The sensor nodes under the fingers pop alive, starting to bombard Starscream's processor with notions about how wonderful the brush of digits feels on his heating metal skin. He tries to escape the feeling, to lean away. "We have no time for that now." His mate murmurs, drawing his hand lower and tracing a finger along a transforming seam on the flyer's hip, causing Starscream to shudder with rising arousal. His mate is a tease, pulling away from the seeker and grabbing his wrist, dragging the smaller mech with him. Jazz tags along, practically beaming when his master compliments him for the new brands. The mech's visor is gleaming a distinct red, and he keeps flashing the seeker creepy grins.

The three of them ascend a long set of stairs, entering a part of the stronghold Starscream wouldn't have imagined to fit the tastes of the gruesome Autobots.

White marble stretches from the floors to the high ceiling. The stone is reinforced, able to carry the heavy weight of the Transformers. Their footfalls, the heavy beat of the grounders and the high tapping of the much lighter flyer resonate from the hard walls in a constant echo. Stone pillars strengthen the ceiling, each and every one of them encrypted with the Autobot symbol. At the other end of the grand room is a set of great double doors leading outside. Near their entrance stands Ironhide, thick arms crossed and a dark look on his face. A quirk on the corners of his lips only helps to darken his expression. "You kept 'em waiting." He comments to their lord, and Starscream quickly learns who 'em' are. He hears a crowd go off beyond the double doors outside. He can hear the current SiC of the Autobots speak, earning another wave of cheers.

"It's time for some fun." Jazz speaks up. Now that they are nearing the doors, the roars are growing louder still. The Prime releases his mate's hand, brushing the same hand over the seeker's face when Starscream pulls a confused expression. He can _see_ the victorious grin behind the facemask, he doesn't like it.

Prowl speaks up one more time, taking a moment's pause as the Autobot overlord steps through the grand doors, drawing a loud roar of his subordinates. "My fellow Autobots…" Starscream casts his optics to the ashen floor, realising this speech is probably just the beginning. The seeker vents a quiet sigh. It has been so long since he last felt this utterly hopeless. "The Decepticon filth has been eradicated." The Prime receives more cheers. Eradicated. There really has come an end to the war. The Decepticons had been fighting a losing battle for so long, but although Starscream had known the end was coming, it felt unreal to have it thrown in his face like this.

Megatron has been gone for weeks – he just disappeared.

Another ghost of a sensation runs over the seeker's frame; one of warm, rich energon and oil dripping down his claws. The flyer shudders the feeling away, feeling nauseous even though his tanks are empty. He and Megatron had never been on the best of terms, both pigheaded and proud, but the silver gladiator had always been a Decepticon first. He had given them a reason to fight, and hadn't given up even in the final days of the war. It was in Megatron that the Decepticons found the leader they needed. To have lost him like this, without a chance to even aid their Commander as he was butchered by the Autobot overlord was a harsh blow dealt to all of them.

Megatron had lost contact with Soundwave when the bombs were dropped on the Decepticon stronghold. The towers toppled and collapsed, taking the communication with other hiding places and bunkers of the 'cons with them. For all Starscream knows, the stoic mech is offline as well. A shame and a loss, Soundwave was a good mech, even if he kept to himself and showed no emotion whatsoever. He only seemed to care for his own six creations, but he was loyal to Megatron. If their TiC has been offlined as well, there is no one next in line to take command over the Decepticons. From those who are left anyway.

There is no link with his trine. It is as if it blocked from both their ends. It is said that when a trine member dies a flyer will know by the pain in their ember, but Starscream hasn't felt any pain yet. Perhaps Thundercracker and Skywarp are still alive. They were out on patrol when the bombs were dropped. In the chaos Starscream has lost them. It could have been because of his bonding with Prime that the pain is quelled. With his trine dead, he has lost next to everything.

"Those who are enslaved will…" The seeker turns his head over his shoulder. His optics darken in anger when they fall on the twins. Sunstreaker catches his gaze and makes a crude gesture, while his twin doesn't move at all. Bumblebee is standing off to the side, almost hiding behind one of the pillars. He has been staring at Starscream, just staring, and the seeker can see the wheels and cogs turning in his little head. The bot may be very small, he is also one of the more violent ones. Where other bots are cruel on a continuous level, Bumblebee remains to himself but can explode in a fit of rage and violence. The small bot suddenly tenses and presses himself against the pillar when Jetfire walks past him. They have no immediate quarrel with each other, but if the large former isn't pleased with the way you look at him, he will come after you and the results are never pretty. The giant fans out his wings, looking even bigger then he already is - more intimidating then he already is.

When Starscream turns his head further he sees who it is the giant is glaring at. Ratchet is standing on the other side of the room, openly challenging him, taunting him, trying to get any kind of reaction out of the larger bot. As Starscream sees it, there will be a day when one of them will kill the other, and it will be a slow and painful death.

Hound is standing close to First Aid. Rumour goes they are bonded, but it may be just that. Red Alert is standing close to Ironhide, Mirage and Jazz, just as intent as everyone else in the room to listen to the speech of their overlord. Almost every high ranking officer of the Ark, the largest Autobot battle ship, is present in this room.

The seeker is pulled out of his thoughts, literally, when Jazz grabs him by the upper arm again. He is a little surprised when the other Autobots move as well. "We are entering an era of glory." The Autobots press through the open double doors and onto a grand balcony. The flyer's optics widen in utmost shock. The sheer number of Autobots below is unbelievable. Bots from all shapes and sizes are screaming with victory as their overlord is giving his speech. With them, the skies are filled with many, many more bots hovering high above the ground. Starscream can barely see past their numbers to see the grey and green sky. "We will take flight and claim the universe once more. We will become Gods." More screams are emitting from the crowds practically surrounding them. "The pathetic Decepticon cause has fallen." On cue, Jazz shoves the seeker forward, nearly slamming him into the side of the Prime. The large mech wraps an arm around the seeker, holding him and showing the flyer to the many Autobots.

Another round of roars follow as the tyrant takes a few steps forward, holding the jet's much smaller frame in front of his own, presenting him to his blind followers. Starscream can feel the thousands of optics landing on him, on the hideous symbols freshly branded on his wings. His systems hiccup with the stress, causing him to fall very still as the larger Autobot holds him. "We have no more enemies." The seeker feels cold fear grip at his ember, making it summersault in his chassis. "The universe lies there for the taking." His mate's strong arm snakes around his thin waist, possessively pulling Starscream flush against his chassis. "And take it we shall."

Starscream then decides it will stop. It _has_ to stop. This ridiculous war, this Primus forsaken faction, everything. Bringing total destruction to their home planet, destroying countless other planets and civilisations and reigning victorious over the Decepticons is not enough. Even though the Autobot faction rules the greatest part of the mapped galaxy they are still hungering for more.

He just needs a plan.

Thinking, however… has become a little difficult. The music is loud and obnoxious. Starscream has never heard something like this, and secretly hopes he never will ever, ever again. A guitar begins wailing a solo, a high, wailing screech that has his audio receivers ring. The keening is overruled by the roar of a crowd already filling the throne room. The large arm encircling his slim waist draws him possessively closer to the larger black and red chassis. It makes walking that much more difficult, but his mate doesn't seem to care as he victoriously drags the smaller mech towards his throne, followed by his entourage. Autobots part left and right, cheering and roaring as their lord passes. The stench of high-grade and processed energon is overpowering, and Starscream feels like retching.

The walk to the Prime's throne becomes even less durable then it already was when claws rake over the flyer's already sensitive wing, causing him to screech with ache. The whole appendage flares up when the fresh brand is assaulted, causing him to stumble. Starscream glares at the seeker that just cut him, but his glower is met with a stare of mocking glee.

Another grope at his wing, and three more at his aft later and he's finally pulled out of the crowd again and up a short step of stairs to the throne. The Prime lowers himself onto his pedestal, dragging a now protesting seeker onto his lap. The highest ranking Autobots seat themselves around them, several of them breaking out the high-grade.

Only three kliks later one of the cubes is sent flying, colliding with the back of Ironhide's helm and shattering in a cascading of bright glitters. The old mech is less than pleased, but instead of trying to find the perpetrator he slams his fist into the face of the closest mech he can reach for no apearant reason, Ratchet goes tumbling down the short stairway, crashing into several other bots. They begin to cheer when the Autobot medic flails back up.

Obviously Ratchet doesn't know who punched him in the face to begin with, because he lunges at Prowl, who was standing next to Ironhide. They start to fight, or rather, the strategist begins pummelling the smaller medic. Their comrades are forming a circle around them, screaming and betting on how long Ratchet will be taking a beating before he goes ballistic. All of that happens at the feet of their Commander, and Optimus just laughs and caresses the side of his seeker's neck with a tender hand.

The fight… or beating… ends as quickly as it starts when a loud, guttural roar makes several bots jump at a now frantic medic. It takes six very big Autobots to drag the Hatchet off and away from their strategist, and the medic soon latches to a random mech's arm and quickly rips it off. The reactions of the Autobots is just astonishing the ex-Decepticon. Several of them are quite upset, having lost a bet. Two bots, the Terror Twins, are exultant to have _won_ those very same bets. Prowl, looking like he has been run through by an army of enemies is back on his feet with some help, ripping out a strand of cables protracting from his nearly severed left arm. The appendage nearly breaks off as he does so, and is pretty much useless now. Deep welds in his armour plating are trickling energon. If his shield hadn't been as sturdy as it is he could well have been offlined by the smaller medic.

Instead of making a big deal out of it he accepts an energon cube from Ironhide and chugs it down, coughing once when the burning liquid causes some great discomfort to the internal damage he just suffered. From then on he acts like nothing happened to begin with. Other Autobots are flocking around the badly damaged strategist, congratulating him on surviving one of the Hatchet's fits of fury, which seems to be quite an achievement. At first Starscream is greatly confused by all this, until literally half an Autobot soldier is thrown through the air and lands in the audience, where the remains are torn apart by several more gleeful bots. The medic was dragged off through a door leading into the stronghold left of the throne room, and judging by the sounds of bloody murder, Ratchet is still going at it in the hallway.

Starscream is pulled out of his thoughts when a seeker approaches the throne, holding an unopened energon cube in his claws. Optimus notices their new company and doesn't respond other then taking another swig from his own high-grade. The former Decepticon is unsure how to respond when the larger, but definitely younger seeker offers him the cube instead of his tyrannical overlord.

With raised black wings the seeker closes the distance, stopping next to the throne and lowering himself out of respect. He is still holding out the cube, slowly fluttering his wings like a butterfly. The larger seeker begins clicking his claws against the side of the throne, the sounds meant to grasp attention but overruled by the loud music. Not that the new flyer cares much, still staring at the seeker seated on his lord's lap. Black wings move lazily on their hinges, folding back almost upright on his back strut, and then fanning forward to frame his body, settling back into their default positions for several kliks before sweeping backwards again in a slow, appealing display of temptation.

An invitation. Starscream remains motionless, slowly getting angry.

The connection with his trine was severed during the final attack on the Decepticons. Starscream knows that the chances that his mates are still online are next to nothing. At least, that is what he keeps telling himself. It hurts less to know that they have joined the All Spark once more. That Primus has welcomed them into Valhalla, and that they are not in stasis lock in some horrible Autobot dungeon or the ruins of one of their former bases.

Without a second glance he snatches the still offered cube from the other seeker's claws and throws the cube to the side and onto the floor, its glowing contents splattering over the already messy ground and the peds of several bots. The black winged seeker doesn't seem to be bothered at all. He slowly backs away from the throne, and the soft smile on his lips is far worse than if the seeker had been insulted and angered by Starscream's actions. His rather childish action has him mate rumble with soft laughter. "Not hungry?" He sarcastically asks, emptying his cube and dropping it off to the side. Starscream twists his head to glare daggers at his mate, who is unaffected.

"Wipe that look off your face or I will do it for you." Starscream wills his claws into fists, about to retort when he is pulled into the other's face by the back of his neck. Optimus' iron grip cuts off several energon lines and dents others, causing the flyer's back to go rigid with pain. "That is much better, love." He winches in pain, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.

The Prime chuckles again, wrapping his arm around his younger mate's waist and pulling him closer. Starscream yelps when he nearly smacks into the large chest. He tries to wriggle out of the strong hold, getting absolutely nowhere, due to the arm hooked beneath his right wing, it's claws digging into the seeker's backstrut to keep him in place so they remain chest to chest.

The seeker shudders when the larger bot draws a free servo down the side of his frame, his sensors flaring in cold arousal. The feeling travels straight down to his interfacing equipment and his whole frame goes ridged. "You enjoy that." Another stroke down his side, striking sensitive wires and sensor nodes. With a gasp the flyer tries to stop the other, twisting himself in an awkward position just to get a hold on the hand teasing him. He suppresses a groan when the free hand brushes the delicate underline of his wing, setting it ablaze with feather touches.

"Stop it." Hissing only earns him another amused chuckle. Lips attach to the seeker's neck, suckling and kissing awfully gentle. The fingers on his wing slowly trace circles around the fresh brand. They are cool to the heated area of the emblem, even soothing, and Starscream may have found it pleasant if he hadn't been in this mess. He gasps when Prime places the flat of his hand against the burned symbol, his touch very cool and absolutely wonderful. "You are warming up to me again." The larger mech purrs seductively, brushing his lips over the jaw line of his mate.

Several mechs around them stop, dozens of blazing optics gliding their way. If it hadn't been for the two seconds of silence in the music, none of them would have heard the sharp sound of the slap that just transpired. One of them begins to laugh, a shrill, pitched cackle. Then another follows with a deep rumble, almost pleasing if one would ignore the sadistic undertone. With them a third and a forth follow, and their numbers rise until everyone who had heard and or witnessed is laughing with merit.

Starscream is shocked. He stares at his free servo, the claws tainted with energon. His optics then glide to the four fresh welds scarring the overlord's face. The cuts are clearly deep, overflowing with half processed energon leaking down a strong jaw line, down the cabling of a throat and disappearing in between and beneath transforming seams and other crevices of the tyrant's armour. The bleeding is vehement, already dripping down onto the throne and pooling slowly. Around them, the laughter and merriment is dying out, making place for expectant anticipation.

"I have been yielding enough." The last thing Starscream thought his unwanted mate would do is laugh at the flyer's lashing out. He nearly jumps when the hand recently caressing his wing returns its affections, ghosting over the sensitive sheet of metal. Fingers curl around the junction between the flyer's wing and his back, forcing another shudder out of the smaller mech.

Starscream braces himself against the other's chest, trying to get a grip on the hand kludging his wing. With every klik that passes the seeker becomes a little more terrified, knowing exactly what the other mech is planning. More kliks pass as he locks optics with his mate, unable to keep the pleading out of them, until a warning flashes in the back of his processors. A warning about great damage and agony. The sensations begin at the back of his helm, slowly curl downwards into his back strut, spreading out into both his wings. The throb grows stronger in his damaged wing, spreading outward like wildfire.

Thankfully everything goes black after that.

Hours pass until his self-repair system pings. His systems begin to reboot, some twice due to the new repairs, while others are immediately running at full blast. His vents are cycling air harder then they should, his ember chamber is rerouting energon to his wings and legs, and bizarrely, his ember is contracting and expanding in slow, strong beats running in sync with the rest of his body.

With a groan he moves his head slightly, scraping it against something solid. The scent emitted by his 'pillow' is strong and daunting; he can't help but nuzzle into it. His body is a bit stiff from being in the same position for too long, but the chassis he is sitting against is warm and inviting. The metal is running hot beneath him, thrumming in slow pulses in sync with the throbbing of his ember. Gasping as he becomes fully awake, the seeker nearly knees his mate in the face when the larger mech buries thick digits in a transformation seam in his upper leg. Protests and insults are lining up on his lips, but Starscream has trouble activating his vocaliser when the other continues stroking the deep seam, matching the caresses with the beat of his ember.

It takes several kliks of recollecting himself before the smaller mech begins to struggle as much as he can while sitting on his mate's lap. All the seeker manages to do, thanks to a grave lack of energon, is wriggle about the place a bit, _pleasing_ the larger mech tremendously if the craving rumble of strong engines is any indication.

Suddenly all of the other gears click in place. Why he is feeling so slagged, why he is overheating and why his ember is pulsating in his chest with strong, even beats. The flyer hisses, grabbing the offending hand with his own, and pulling it away. There is a moment of salvation on his humming systems, until his mate uses his other hand, which is wrapped around the flyer's lower back, to press claws into crevices on the seeker's slim hip. The wave of pleasure has the seeker squeal and jolt, shuddering in the other's lap when the Prime continues to wriggle his fingers in between the plating of his hip.

If Starscream could he would have slapped the other mech again, but Optimus would probably break his other wing too if he did that. He cannot afford to lose more energon then he already has. They are both covered in it because of the gashes on the Prime's face and his own broken wing. Starscream, seated on the other's lap is at least partially spared from the slowly drying substance, but his mate is covered in it, not having bothered with wiping his face even after the four strokes on his face closed on their own. His chest and abdomen have smears all over them from the contact with the seeker, dripping down the Autobot Lord's hips and crotch plate and onto the throne, even so far as dripping over the edges of it.

No one seems to be bothered by the spilled energon, processed or not. The floor is littered with it, along with small gears and wires leading up to full blown body parts and even deactivated bodies. Shattered glass from energon cubes is everywhere, sparkling with moisture, both energon and fluids one doesn't want to recognise.

A somewhat displeased murmur from his mate draws the flyer's attention. Optimus seems slightly unhappy with Starscream's distraction, but that mood too fades like snow for the sun when the smaller mech reverts his attention back to Optimus, and begins his attempts at struggling again.

"Sick frag." The flyer hisses through clenched jaws, trying to push the other's skilled hands away.

"I highly doubt you want me to stop." The tyrant whispers in his audio receiver with only the slightest hints that he has been drinking _a lot_. Hours must have passed as the seeker 'recharged' before the Prime decided it would be fun to molest his mate in public.

Optimus places his large hand on the heated metal above the seeker's cockpit. Starscream jerks sharply and groans before he can control himself, the mere touch causing his ember to expand with desire. The larger mech pulls the smaller one closer, effectively trapping the lighter flyer's right arm. The left one can't do much more then grab the servo dragging lower, setting sensors ablaze along the way down. "No!" Starscream tries to stick to hissing, knowing that stronger sounds might attract the attention of others in the room. His mate doesn't seem to care at all about that, but Starscream does, and the last thing he needs now is more spectators.

This whole ordeal is humiliating enough without anyone watching.

His screech of anger is swallowed by the other forcing their lips together as the hand between his legs forces his interfacing panels apart. Starscream tries to bring his legs together, his last resort but he cannot stop the Autobot's hand from moving along the heated rims of his port no matter how hard he tugs at the wrist. His ember wrenches again, causing a tremor to rattle through his body. The smaller mech jerks his head back with a hiss when the other bites down on the soft material of his lower lip. Sharp dentas attach themselves to his throat, latching onto skin. "Sick… perverted glitch…!" Starscream chokes out a groan when his mate runs his deft fingers over his port, beginning a steady rhythm perfectly in sync with the beating of his ember. As the seeker writhes, he notices the other is affected by the same beating of their souls.

Freshly bonded embers need time to grow in sync with the other in order to establish a solid bond. This requires many merges, in which both bots will enter a so called heat cycle that allows their embers and whole chassis to synchronise with the other, causing more merges with shorter intervals of rest, causing a full bond to be established more quickly.

If he could, Starscream would have fought the other mech much more to avert any of this. It is humiliating enough that the larger mech was able to start his engines while he was out cold. Now it is all adding insult to injury when his CPU begins drawing up old memory files of times when he was actually in love with this psychopath, and how there was once a time he dreamt Optimus doing these exact things to him. The seeker shudders again when his mate increases his pace, stroking his port with long, firm caresses that has every sensor in his body aflame. Lubricant is only intensifying the feeling of pleasure, letting the Prime violate him with ease.

"You are loving this." The larger mech murmurs against his neck, kissing and biting. He rakes his free hand over his seeker's hip again, teasing wires and drawing a long moan from his mate which has him quiver with want. The Prime groans when the smaller mech begins pushing against his hand, revelling in the erotic sight right here in his lap. Completely lost, the younger mech moans shamelessly, possible spectators forgotten, releasing the wrist of the hand pleasuring him and hooking his claws on the back of his mate's helm, pulling him closer to ravish his mouth. Glossas fight each other, pushing and licking and tasting every inch of the other. The seeker groans, pushing his hips more firmly into the other's expert hand and matching the stroking with thrusts of his own.

When his mate suddenly groans, a deep baritone vibrating with lust, he nearly loses it as his arousal shifts to new heights. "Beautiful… Mine…" Had Starscream been in any better state of mind he would have berated himself for finding his mate's voice sexy. '_If only he'd keep talking,' _ghosts through his processors. The seeker convulses once, feeling his end approaching fast. Scattered thoughts drift back to his mate's voice, about him speaking in that same, wonderful deep tenor until the thoughts of his mate groaning in pleasure overthrow those. The larger mech buries his face in the crook of the flyer's neck, biting down hard on the cables and drawing energon. "Seeker mine." The growl, possessive and needy and _dominating_ has the flyer's very core tremble and he loses himself in pleasure. His mate groans as the seeker moans without restraint, convulsing on the larger mech's lap in the aftermath of his overload.

Shaking, it takes time before the younger mech comes down from his pleasured high. His ember finally has a chance to calm down somewhat, still pulsating but not nearly as powerful as it did at first. It doesn't calm down completely because his mate is still in a state of want, not having found release yet.

With embers still aching for each other Starscream tries to pull himself together before he is assaulted with dreadful emotions. Horrible as all he can think about is how badly he wants to merge with the larger mech again.

How he's fallen from grace. Hard.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers characters, robots, environments etc, etc. Any OC, robot or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: M for bad stuff, abuse, torture, violence, gore, naughty stuff. Alcohol like stuff abuse. OOCness through the roof, OCs here and there, beware. My first real Non-Con ever, scary. Warning may expand in the future. Oh My God I have a plot! See if you can spot it.

A/N: I'd like to welcome my newest readers. It's always fun to see new faces. And loving kisses to the people who are sticking to this story. I love every single one of you with big hearts and chocolate and stuffs.

Beta: Proofread and made less sucky by Francesca Zatnik. More special thanks to you!

…- Azure Droplets, Crimson Optics -…

The academy is disturbingly quiet.

Fights constantly break out on the streets of Iacon, forcing civilians out of their homes and into the towers and higher buildings of the city, while others flee completely. Although Iacon has an outstanding military force, they are no match for the seemingly very well organised rebel forces. Half of those military forces were send to Kaon as backup, as the streets of the working city were flooded by rebels several lunar cycles ago. Devotees of Primus, they call themselves. Out to bring salvation to the children of Primus, out to purify the streets of Cybertron of the filth and the weak.

Horrible, in Starscream's opinion. He tries not to think too much about it. The white seeker is rummaging through a box filled with datapads, all of them broken and useless but he just cannot bring himself to throw them away. He can still fix them or reroute their information, if only he had the time. "Starscream." The seeker twitches at the mentioning of his designation. He raises his gaze to the large grounder in the doorway, wings lowering on his back in agitation. His professor smiles an oily smile that forces the flyer to suppress a shudder. Lightswitch snakes his way towards the smaller mech but leaves some distance between them when Starscream rises to his peds. The seeker barely manages to contain his disdainful tone of voice. "What do you want professor?"

"Now, now. I just want to have a talk with my favourite student." The green and red mech opts, sensing the hostility but remaining positive. He has been coveting the seeker for a while now and has made no secret of it. "I'm sure you have heard the news concerning the recent discoveries made by Gamma Ray." Starscream returns to rummaging through his box of broken pads, pretending to be busy. Maybe the other will pick up on his disinterest in this conversation. Even if Gamma Ray is a brilliant researcher and the seeker would kill to follow her progress first hand. "She has put me in charge of the upcoming expedition. And I am to select a few to accompany us."

His hinting can't be any more obvious.

"I doubt that is what you came here for. If you have made your pick you could have commed me." Of course, Starscream is interested. The fembot is almost legendary when it comes to her research on Xenovitology. It was top news when she came with the discovery of a new planet that may hold actual life. "I do."

"Then why are you here?" A datapad falls on the floor when Starscream digs a little too vigorously, but the seeker pretends not to really pay attention to it. The other mech might not know it, but his ember has started beating with anticipation. Lightswitch always did have a way of getting under his wiring. "It has come to my attention that you are reaching the age to bond with a mate. And seekers are allowed to have multiple suitors…" Starscream immediately knows where this is going. "My creators aren't very fond of grounders, so me bonding with one is not going to happen." The younger mech quickly responds, wiping the playful look off the other's faceplates. However, the look quickly returns when the larger mech stalks forward towards the hulking seeker on the floor. The smaller mech freezes mid-dig in his box when a hand brushes over the tip of his wing, leaving a disgustingly slimy trail in its wake.

Although the professor's servo is dry.

Starscream in on his peds in a flash. "What do you think you're doing?" He snarls, slapping the servo away when the other mech tries to make a grab for him again. Grabbing a seeker's wingtip is taboo, and his professor knows that. It is one thing if a stranger tries it, and by Primus a lot of grounders have done it in the time the seeker has been on the academy, but someone who knows about seeker etiquette has no business touching a flyer's wings in general. "I've heard that the seekers of Crystal City aren't very tolerable in general. Yet your creators don't seem very concerned with your affairs with a simple librarian?" The white wings go rigid with tension at the mentioning of the seeker's crush. "I'm sure they would approve of a scholar of my calibre, if they consider a lowly librarian for their creation as well?"

"…I'm not… You can't just…"

"I believe in fact, that he is just a simple archivist." The green mech relinquishes his hold on the other's wrist somewhat, but not enough to release the seeker should Starscream bolt. "A simple, lowly archivist dwelling in the lower records with barely a glimpse on what real knowledge is all about." The larger mech pushes the seeker into the table behind the flyer, their faces inches away from touching. "And one who, although strictly forbidden, has visited you more times than security can account for."

Even though it is forbidden for archivists and filers to enter the academy grounds, it didn't stop the 'lowly' archivist from visiting the seeker whenever he could. Somewhere along the way, Starscream had begun to look forward to those visits. It's not really a crime, but if authorities should get wind of these activities and decide they are a waste of precious time and energy, repercussions could follow for both Starscream and his visitor. "Or maybe your creators have yet to be informed?" One look at the seeker's shocked faceplates is enough for the other mech to pinpoint exactly where he stands. "You wouldn't…"

"Oh but I would." He promises, oily smile breaching his lips. With a gentle tug the larger mech pulls the seeker a little closer by the wrist, their chests bumping into each other slightly. Starscream suddenly has a very strong need to throw himself under a scorching hot spray of cleanser. "Unless you can give me a good reason not to?" He continues, raising a green servo to touch the flyer's check. The larger bot releases a startled yelp when his servo is slapped away, a few claws nicking the metal skin and causing it to leak. Starscream is released in an instant and takes a few steps back, about to tell his professor where he can stick his courting when someone else enters the lab.

If Starscream had any less dignity, he would have swooned on the spot.

Even Lightswitch seems to realise they aren't alone anymore, because the mech puffs himself up, giving the false impression he actually matters. He's already guessed who is disturbing them, judging by the uncontained smile on the flyer's faceplates. "Professor…" The red and black newcomer greets with an air of indifference, acting as if he owns the place which strikes a nerve. "Orion. What brings you to this part of the academy? Surely you haven't forgotten that the towers are no place for archivists?" He leaves no room for the newcomer to greet the mech he came here for.

"As the new head librarian, I can go where I please professor." Orion plays with his new title, tasting it on his lips as he spits. "As for filers and archivists not being tolerated in the upper halls of the academy, I plan to change that." Secretly, Starscream is _adoring_ the way his suitor is towering over his professor. The seeker himself isn't a big mech, even small compared to most seekers, so he is easily bested in heights or body masses. Seeing Lightswitch forcing himself to stand his ground against a very large grounder, now that is just spicing to his high-grade. "So they chose you?" Starscream pipes up and pushes past the green mech. The infectious smile on Orion's face has the seeker beaming with delight. "But there were so many candidates."

"Many forfeited the position." He begins, not paying much attention to the fuming green mech. He is more interested in the seeker now hanging on his arm. "Have you finished your… business here?" Orion contemplates out loud, furious optics gliding towards the green mech in silent warning. "I have." Starscream answers, but the large mech still glares daggers at the professor who has remained carefully silent. Good. "Come. I wish to speak with you." The two lovers leave the fuming professor to brood in silence and head for Starscream's chambers, where they can speak freely.

Starscream never really questioned why that had been the last time he had seen Lightswitch in one piece.

"So… twenty-seven candidates, and they all just passed the opportunity to become head librarian?" Starscream plops down on a chair, scooting it over to the table. He can't stop looking at the larger mech, who unspaces a few cubes and places them on the table before he takes a seat. There are always many after the position of head of the library, a title which isn't passed on very often. "Indeed." He doesn't elaborate any further. However, Starscream isn't one to give up quickly. "I heard Spitfire disappeared…" The smaller mech begins, watching the other for any kind of reaction. "And that Cloudchaser was found deactivated in his own home."

"What of them?" The larger mech grabs a cube and opens the lid, sliding it towards the seeker in a meaningful gesture. Starscream denies it, as he always does. He doesn't drink, and Orion knows it. It never stopped him from offering though. "Simpleshifter and Ace withdrew their applications…" Orion plays as if he's not bothered at all. "I think someone has been targeting them. And…" Even an idiot could figure out that the other candidates have been targeted, have been threatened or deactivated. By who is still a question. Although Starscream believes his crush is more then adequate for the position, so were the other candidates. And some of those others were more qualified then Orion. Meaning that the ones targeting the candidates probably missed Orion. "…and I think you might be next."

"Don't worry about that."

"What?" The younger mech shifts on his seat when the other doesn't elaborate further. His wings tense up slightly, but when the other mech gives the seeker a warm smile the tension bleeds from his frame and he momentarily forgets what they are talking about. Orion places his empty cube on the table and stands to his peds.

"I suppose you have been following the news on the fights breaking out in the streets of the mayor cities." The smaller mech, still seated and slightly flustered by the other's mere presence nods once. "The Autobots are growing in power and numbers." He circles the seeker once, keeping an optic on him. Starscream has fallen very quiet, his faceplates fallen in silent contemplation and shock. The Autobot faction was founded by Sentinel Prime long before the seeker was sparked. A small, private army of the Prime so to speak. Sentinel has preached peace for as long as the flyer can remember and has enforced his will with his soldiers. Not many question the Prime, not many are brave enough and even fewer are that stupid. For a long time now the Autobots kept the violence to a minimum, but it seems Sentinel has lost sight of his own path.

"Sentinel won't stand for his faction using violence. He…" The smaller mech stops speaking when large hands gently fall on each of his shoulders. It has never been easy for him to think straight with the other mech this close, and touching him no less. Strong fingers circle the flyer's neck cables in a gentle massage, draining all remaining thoughts from the smaller mech. "He _would_ not. Not a long time ago. But he believes it is time for change."

"Change?"

"Praxus has too many underground problems, and just as Metroplex and Kalis there are rumours of drug pits, gladiator battles and prostitution. The Megalo Convoys no longer produce sparklings due to inbreeding. Scramble City has practically no police forces left. Tyger Pax and Trypticon are actually at war with each other. Vos has seekers stealing more and more grounder sparklings because many are unable to reproduce due to the 13-Virus, which there is a cure for in Axiom Nexus but they refuse to part with the formula. Not to mention the conditions in Kaon are horrible at their best… There is an energon shortage on all of Cybertron, because authorities are too preoccupied with healthcare for the poor, weak and wounded to find a solution."

"The conditions aren't that bad…" Starscream places his hand on the hand on his shoulder, mindful not to disturb the other hand. It's very nice to have his neck cables rubbed like that. It's very nice to have his crush touch him in any way. "They will be. It's going to be a matter of time." Unfortunately the rubbing stops. "Listen to me." Orion softly begins, kneeling onto the floor next to the flyer. Starscream has never been able to resist the shine on the other's optics. "The academy in Crystal City would be more appropriate for your talents. You are much safer there."

"From what?" However, the other mech remains silent, calculating his next move. Orion raises a hand to the seeker's faceplates and strokes his check lovingly with a thumb. An action that usually distracts Starscream from his train of thoughts, but not today. "From what Orion?"

Still, Orion did not elaborate.

Despite his deeply conflicting feelings about the Autobots and Orion wanting him to return home, Starscream still followed his advice. The Autobot faction declared the Crystal City theirs about a lunar cycle later. No energon had been spilt, but the tension in the air could be cut with an energon blade. A curfew had been set up, and bots had been confined to their homes or work. Autobot warriors patrolled the buildings and were the only ones allowed to travel between buildings after curfew. It came as a surprise when Starscream found out how many flyers of the Crystal City had joined the rebels.

Starscream heard nothing from his crush for a very long time, stellar cycles passed as he waited. Even when Sentinel Prime was murdered and a mech named 'Optimus Prime' had taken the title, he heard nothing for so very long. At one point in time, Starscream really began to miss him. His ember ached, longed for the beautiful archivist the seeker had fallen for.

When he met Orion again, or Optimus Prime, when the large mech came to visit him again, he had shown glimpses of what he was becoming.

Who he has become.

_What_ he has become.

"Put me down…" The seeker hisses, trying to kick the larger mech with an energon stained ped. His mate doesn't release his hold on the flyer's waist and keeps walking down the corridors of the stronghold. Starscream can guess where they are going. And that is the last place he wants to go. He would prefer the med bay and a berserking Hatchet over what his mate has in store for him.

Even if his systems start buzzing with desire again. It must be the other's ember, still throbbing away in his chassis in blatant want. The seeker looks up into the face of the other mech, just a glimpse but just enough. More then enough. It's hard to believe he once loved this mech, that he once missed this mech's touch and very presence. "Fraggit put me… down!" Seemingly in a mood to indulge Optimus does as he is told and nearly throws the lighter mech onto the ground who releases a strangled grunt on impact. Starscream is too dazed to figure out what is up and what is down, processor spinning and blaring danger and damage.

The seeker pushes himself up, trying to ignore the flare in his back from his barely mended wing. The damage his mate had done to it was minimal, but he knows how to make it hurt. It takes a few kliks, but the seeker finally figures out they are in someone's chambers.

Getting to his peds while he feels so heavy with anticipation is _difficult_.

To be perfectly honest, Starscream had no idea what he would have thought about the chambers of his mate. If he would have to go by the architecture in what he has seen of the stronghold, he would have been standing in energon soaked, filthy, depressing chambers littered with bodies and spare parts. But this room, probably the living area, is so clean one could spill energon on the floor and lick it up without it being contaminated. The walls are decorated with guns and energon weapons that seem to be in perfect condition. The centre of the room has a circular couch that wraps around a smaller circular table. One could think themselves anywhere but the chambers of an Autobot.

Had the corpse stapled and chained to the wall been lost to them.

The seeker's optics glide over the metal chassis of a long offlined Decepticon. The 'con's shell has greyed out long ago after it went offline. A metal chain with diamond shaped link pins is easily upholding the empty chassis of the poor mech to the wall, coiling around the mech's body like a snake. There are many marks on the bot's body, where the poor soul was able to move. The mech actually offlined hanging here, stapled and chained to the wall like some ornament. Starscream feels his empty tanks roll with nausea, coiling and twisting in utter disgust. He looks back down out of respect when his optics glide up to the mech's face, which he has never seen before and _never_ wanted to see like this. The Decepticon's visor is cracked and broken, ripped away, his always so carefully hidden faceplates out for all to witness.

A heavy chassis pushes against his backstrut, strong arms wrapping around the seeker's waist and chest. "He was definitely one of my favourites." Starscream shudders in repulsion, his body rattling against the other, larger one. "It was such a shame we couldn't crack his CPU. He would have made a wonderful asset." Lips brush over the seeker's helm, placing a loving kiss on the side before brushing lower, tracing dented neck cables. Starscream's intakes hitch in a dry sob.

The large chassis tenses behind the seeker when Starscream raises a servo and traces it up the other's neck. Easy to reach for him now, with Optimus behind him. The Prime groans softly, intakes stalling at the odd gentle touch of his smaller mate. Not that he dares to complain. One servo attaches itself to the seeker's hip while the other begins rubbing the flyer's stomach, tracing gentle and loving circles. It's the larger mech's way of encouraging his mate to more intimacy. The seeker reacts by brushing his servo over his mate's cheekplate, the one he had damaged earlier in the evening. Deep cuts are still obvious. A deep and approving purr in return is his reward.

Another dry sob stalls the younger mech's intakes when he locks optics with the dead chassis in front of them. The seeker jerks sharply and throws his helm back, trying not to cry out when his mate stops rubbing the small circles on his stomach and lowers it to his interface again. The smaller mech flexes his claws slightly, silently wishing the Decepticon TiC was still online to witness this. A small smile appears on his lips, one of dry humour at the sheer lunacy of this all. They have lost so much. His mate is purring contently, obvious to what is coming.

With a quick flick of his wrist Starscream's claw hooks underneath the optical lens and into the optical socket, easily flicking deep underneath the lens. The seeker needs to twist his arm in an unpleasant way but it is utterly worth it when the large mech releases a strangled roar of pain.

The large chassis jerks back out of reflex and a large servo wraps around the wrist of the offending servo. It's too late as the seeker twists more claws underneath the optic, cracking the glass and pulling the optic loose from the socket. Optimus jerks his head away, snarling when the optic breaks. A loud crack follows when he twists the arm of the seeker downwards, snapping the flyer's shoulder in the awkward position. Starscream nearly cries his vocaliser out as he is forced to his knees. The other mech releases his wrist, allowing him to pop his shoulder back into the socket. It hurts a lot, but the smaller mech has no time to dwell on it when a well aimed kick slams him against the white floor, knocking the air out of his vents.

A large hand wraps around one of the seeker's ankles before he can recover, dragging the seeker away from the wall. Starscream screeches and claws at the floor as he is dragged off, talons leaving indents in their wake. The perfectly clean marble protests when the small mech hooks his claws in the rims presented for him, but they do little to deter his mate. They pass the furniture in the centre of the room, and quickly after pass through a set of doors.

There is a distinct smell of spilled energon that hangs faintly in the air. That is just _wrong_.

Optimus seems wholly content to take hold of him again, wrapping strong arms around the flyer's waist and easily lifting his light chassis off the floor. His chest bumps against the flyer's back, sending a flare of heat through the seeker's body. The link between them is still weak, but Starscream can feel the desire and want now that they are this close. It seems his mate has been very patient, but that patience has run low.

The smaller mech tries to make a grab for his mate's optic again, wholly intending to rip it out now. A strong servo snatches his wrist before he can even touch the other's face. "Darling…" Metal screeches and protests beneath the pressure the large mech applies to the captured wrist, denting lines and cracking through the wrist armour. "…no more of that." Something snaps in the seeker's wrist forcing a strangled cry from the flyer's vocaliser. Energon begins to well up from beneath the cracked plating, droplets dripping along his mate's servo. The seeker hisses, pointlessly grabbing at the heavily armoured arm around his waist. The hold only becomes stronger, causing the steel plating of the flyer's midsection to buckle and groan under the pressure. Starscream stops struggling, trying in vain to puff himself up to counter some of the pressure, but at last the other stops stressing his abdominal plating.

With an appreciative purr Optimus turns with his mate in arms towards their berth. Starscream's engines stall and his CPU hiccups when the larger mech's intensions become very clear. He knew this was inevitable, and some part of him is surprised that it took the Prime this long to drag him to a berth, but in the end this whole idea seems so surreal. Especially because he and the larger mech are already bonded.

"No!" There is a slight stall in the other mech's movements but he doesn't seem deterred in the slightest. Optimus easily pins his smaller mate with his weight alone. Starscream's wings still protest as they are pushed into the berth, his earlier injury still throbbing and burning. The Prime's broad chest meets with his canopy and it doesn't do his aching ember any good. It nearly bursts through the glass of its protective chamber when the larger mech grinds their chests together, equally affected and aroused. Lips decent onto his own, snapping with a desperate vehemence Starscream is slowly getting used to and learning to anticipate. Sharp teeth dig into the soft metal of his lips, drawing rivers of energon that drip down the sides of the flyer's mouth.

The seeker raises his hands and presses them against the other's chest, trying to shove the larger mech off. His mate doesn't even budge, heavy bastard, in fact he shivers a little because of the contact on his windshield glass. Large hands track down the seeker's sides, claws digging into transformation seems and along heating plating. Starscream hisses and snaps his head to the side, trying to dig his own claws into seems to he can have some sort of leverage to fight the other off. He notices his mate leaning a little to the side to shift with his weight, to push an arm around the small of the flyer's back. Starscream raises one powerful leg and presses it against the larger mech's exposed side.

If an opportunity ever presented itself…

No time is wasted while the other topples over the edge of the berth with a surprised yelp and a harsh crash. Starscream doesn't hang around long enough to laugh and point. There is, in all fairness, nothing funny about the large mech being thrown off so easily. As the seeker bolts through the door of the bedroom a pang of anger rushes through his ember, weak and distant, but it is coming from his mate. The small mech really doesn't want to be around for what that feeling promises.

There is only one thing he hadn't accounted for. Even if it is very obvious, since the _bedroom_ _door_ was _open_…

He bolts straight into the locked door leading out the Prime's personal quarters.

The full body slam rattles his processors, for a moment his CPU shuts down and starts back up again. Not too long for his legs to give out under him, but it leaves the seeker dazed and momentarily confused.

Of course _this_ door is locked.

Azure optics travel over the steel surface of the door, as if it would open in one way or another. If only it would, but the small seeker knows he isn't that lucky. If he were that lucky he would be somewhere far, far away from here. Or offline. A pang of humiliation travels through the flyer's backstrut, and the cold feeling of apprehension and defeat is crawling through his wires like a virus. Starscream nearly glares a hole through the steel door when the mech behind him chuckles mockingly, _laughing_ at the pathetic attempt for freedom.

Slowly, very slowly the seeker begins to turn around. His mate hasn't closed the distance yet, too far for Starscream to reach, but too close to retaliate should the seeker bolt again. Another chuckle escapes the larger mech when he realises Starscream is sizing him up.

The Prime revs his engine in a growl, a mock threat that is enough to start the fun. Starscream lunges himself at the other, ready to shred the bastard to strings. The larger mech catches one wrist, one claw aimed at his face. He doesn't catch the other which grapples into a visible seem, claws hooking underneath a cable. Starscream pulls his hand back before the other can stop him. Three of his claws break under the surprisingly strong cable, but a forth slices through it, drawing a stream of energon. Optimus doesn't release a sound at that.

The seeker snaps at neck cables, grabbing a thick line between his teeth. Processed energon drips up from beneath the dents he is able to create, but he can't last long before pain erupts from his backstrut as the Prime grabs at his barely healed wing and pulls the joint downward. He is on his knees again in a matter of seconds, no match for the vice like grip the other possesses. A kick to his side knocks the seeker on his back. The flyer curls into himself, not having anticipated being downed this quick. It is a stab at what is left of his pride.

His mate circles him slowly, daring him to get up again. "Finished already?" The seeker glares at the large mech through furious optics, but he isn't getting up. He doesn't have the strength left to get up.

Shame, Optimus enjoys having to fight for it. Always had, it is so much more fun like that. It's a shame the smaller mech doesn't get up quicker, but then again, there is always next time. There will be plenty more times they can fool around.

The smaller mech begins to struggle when his mate picks him up again for the umpteenth time that evening. With a sharp jerk to his chassis the large mech begins dragging the seeker towards his bedchamber _again_. "No…" Starscream drags his heels over the floor, leaving scuffmarks on the ground. His mate doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. "Do you really want to make this any harder on yourself?" He teases, uncaring for his mate's rude reaction and the sad attempts at another escape. He really enjoys the spirit of the smaller mech. The more fun it will be to beat it out of him when the time comes.

Starscream's shout of outrage is muffled when the warlord pushes him face first into the berth. One large servo grapples his wrists and push them to the berth, and the Prime's other arm is free to snake around the seeker's petite waist and keep him firmly in place with minimal effort. And he has a nice view of his mate's pretty wings.

Optimus has always been a little crazy for wings, the way they frame a flyer's body and make one _complete_. Big flyers, small flyers, petite flyers, enormous flyers, seekers, shuttles and everything in between. The flyers were a race on their own on Cybertron, sleeker and lighter then the sturdy groundbound mechs. Every Cybertronian has their appeal, but flyers always possessed a certain grace Optimus found hard to resist. Seekers, the war built kings of the skies are the best, of course. So many joining the Autobot cause had been a blessing from Primus himself.

There is just something _magical_ about the way a seeker's wings pop, snap, creak and break when one twists the appendage in one's hands just the right way.

Starscream is wriggling about the place, cursing up a storm with a snapping vocaliser that is pitching under the strain. However, the pretty seeker falls blissfully silent when the large mech brushes his fingertips over the flyer's most intimate cover with a ghostly touch. He would have laughed but his smaller mate suddenly jerks forward, snapping sharp dentae onto his pinning hand and breaking through the armour of his fingers.

Optimus secretly hopes his seeker will never stop fighting him.

With a harsh jerk the larger mech pulls his hand back. His light mate slams into his chest, dentae still embedded in his hand. The seeker flashes him a deathly glare which Optimus can only answer with rising glee. With an arm firmly around his small mate's waist he can pull his trapped hand as far as he wants, and Starscream can only move so far. Two of the smallest fingers on his hand snap clean off when the Prime pulls his hand back, breaking them off with ease. His mate is so shocked by what transpires that the large mech can easily overpower him again. Starscream kicks him, but he is quickly beaten. The larger mech wrestles himself between his mate's legs, getting the job done with little trouble and after inflicting a few dents and scratches.

Starscream finally spits the two fingers out and swears loudly, hissing barely coherent threats as the other pries his valve cover open again. His valve throbs and begins to lubricate without his consent when the deft hand returns to his port and begins rubbing the slick metal with the same expertise it had done earlier in the evening. The movement sends waves of heat through the seeker's chassis, his breeding programs recognising the actions and starting their sparking protocols. It mellows him out, makes him a lot more receptive to the other mech. Sparklings aren't born from rape, unless something in the victim's processors muddles the definition, and his CPU is spinning and bending itself in ways almost impossible to make sure this first attempt at sparking will be successful. The seeker doesn't fight the glossa forcing itself into his mouth, not with that skilled hand deftly working him towards his next overload. Somehow the seeker can no longer bring himself to care about who is pleasuring him. Something echoes through his CPU about the bonding cycle he has entered, the new merge starting up the appropriate protocols.

A finger pushes into his valve, easily sliding in because he is so wet. "I would say you're ready for me." His mate whispers into his audio, lips brushing the side of the seeker's helm. The smaller mech swallows a lump, the apprehension tugging onto his wiring and making him lose the feeling in his legs. He tries to push against the other in a last ditch effort, sending the other mech a glare that isn't very convincing; a glare that falters gravely when he feels something press against his thigh. Starscream picks up on the sight of the offending hardness, unsure if it should be that big.

Optimus moves himself into position, keeping his small mate down. The seeker chokes on his curse when his mate simply pushes halfway into his valve before pulling back slightly, and then pushes all the way in. The stretch is very painful. With an appreciative growl the other mech begins fragging his smaller mate, quite literally. Starscream has to fight to keep quiet every time the other pushes in, the spike causing a horrible burning sensation.

Starscream winches and groans at a particularly harsh snap of the other's hips into his own. Lips trace over the flyer's neckcables, razor teeth nibbling on the precious lines. The seeker tries to edge the other's helm away, accidentally dragging claws over his mate's antenna and eliciting a very deep groan with that. Starscream immediately withdraws his hand, cheekplates running hot after the discovery of one of his mate's erogenous zones. Optimus is purring loudly, nuzzling the side of the smaller flyer's face with his own. The seeker's throat is closing up with desperation because he can't fight the other mech off anymore.

Starscream groans and turns his face away from the larger mech, biting his glossa to try and distract himself. His mate has mellowed in his humping to a much more relaxed pace, deeper and slower thrusts that have Starscream's processor reeling. Optimus picks up on this rather quickly and stops moving for a moment, having his mate nearly cringe with the loss of movement.

In the few kliks it takes the larger mech to adjust his position the seeker has a much needed moment to recollect himself. A pang of shame washes through his frame as if someone has just dumped a bucket of freezing water over him. He tightly shuts his optics, biting his lower lip until it bleeds. But when his mate begins moving again Starscream nearly chokes on the groan pressing up in his throat. The first languid push in hits _every_ sensor node. Gasping, the small mech throws his head back when his mate pulls out, leaving only the tip of his spike inside the velvet heat. Rolling with his hips the large mech pushes back in, drawing a muffled groan from his small mate.

He establishes an easy rhythm, slow and gentle pushes in and out of the flyer. The Prime shows a mountain of self-control as he takes the smaller mech slowly, taking note of every out of rhythm jerk Starscream makes and adjusting to them with expert ease. When the smaller mech tries to push at the other's helm again Optimus grabs at it, gently, and pushes it over the seeker's head. It's a bit of a struggle to get the other pinned as well, but the warlord does so without causing any pain to the delicate flyer. Without Starscream fidgeting the other has more control, slowly thrusting in and out. The seeker kicks at the berth's soft material with his legs, feeble attempts to stop the other. Worst part is the nagging voice in the back of his head telling and hoping Optimus will keep going for just a bit longer. Which he does, caressing a hand along the seems of the seeker's chest plates, stomach and hip, wherever he can reach with one hand. When he brushes the hand along the underline of the seeker's wing, the flare of heat makes the small mech groan loud. Lips nibble on the ex-'con's neck, kissing at the small dents and broken wires.

_A bit more._ Starscream moans, hips meeting his mate's without him consenting to it. But damn does it feel good to do. _Just a bit more._ Somewhere beyond his coherent thoughts the seeker lifts one of his long legs and hooks it around his mate's waist, pulling him in deeper. Optimus chuckles almost darkly at his subconscious surrender.

With a final push the smaller mate comes undone, shuddering uncontrollably beneath his mate. The heat that washes through his circuits has the flyer's optics flash white as warnings flash through his CPU. The final waves of ecstasy drip out of the seeker's body, drawn out as Optimus never ceased his gentle but deep pace. Starscream refuses to online his optics, refuses to stare up into the delightfully victorious gleam coming from his mate. He feels the large mech grin against the side of his face, the mocking caress over his hips and the arrogance bleeding into their still weak link.

Arrogance and arousal that peak when the larger mech suddenly forces himself much deeper then he has ever gone before. Starscream chokes a cry out, frame locking up at the sudden stab of pain. He jolts up slightly, and is quickly slammed down again. The flyer tries to throw his hands up again but Optimus keeps one pushed down, leaving the seeker only one claw to try and dig through his thick plating. Starscream's assault on the strong armour loses in power when the larger mech begins a brutal pace, slamming in deep and ruthlessly and actually ripping something. The smaller mech bites his lip trying to will the pain away, failing as the raw burning in his port seems to spread through his whole body, hacking down whatever there is left of his will to fight back in any way.

It hurts, fraggit it hurts. As if the other mech is tearing him in half. His valve burns with every thrust, ripping through the sensitive walls and scorching. Starscream can't keep himself quiet, only getting more and more angry with himself for failing at even that. His cries are only fuelling the other's arousal. Teeth bite down onto the seeker's lips, almost ripping a part away. Claws are digging deep into the transformation seems on the small of the flyer, digging too deep and cutting through sensitive wires. When Optimus jerks with one of his arms, his claws hooking through one of the lines Starscream arches with a shrill cry of pain, trying to move away from the offending hand but only moving more into the other. Doing so must have been the straw for his larger mate because the final snap of the other's hips is even harsher then all of the others. A final thought goes out to how thankful Starscream is that the other is finally done, until those thoughts are scrambled when the hot liquid his mate releases inside of him only burns in the wounds he has already caused.

The fight has left Starscream completely. His mate collapses on top of him, adding a great portion of weight to the already battered seeker's frame. Something in the flyer's backstrut _gives_ under the pressure. Thankfully the other mech pulls away from him, one set of claws still embedded in the small of the seeker's back. Optimus is almost gentle as he gets comfortable on his wide berth with his mate in arms. _Now_ Primus deems the seeker worthy of his time. Instead of jumping his mate again Optimus grapples at the smaller mech as he slowly gets cosy in the centre of the berth. He steadily ignores whatever was left of their passion as he shifts. It has been an energy consuming past couple of days. Starscream lets himself be manoeuvred onto his mate's chest, trying to get comfortable even with the steady burn in his back, legs and… he doesn't want to think about it.

He didn't think his new mate to be one for cuddling.

They settle in silence, the only sounds being the seeker's somewhat ragged breathing and his mate's slowly dying out purring.

_'…'_

The seeker jerks sharply at the sensation of static over his communication lines, disturbing the larger mech who had drifted a bit. Optimus lifts the seeker a little higher onto his chassis, the arm wrapped around the flyer's waist tightening its grip once more until it becomes uncomfortable again. He only relents again when Starscream whimpers and tries to pull away from him. The couple settles again slowly, though the larger mech seems to be more apprehensive with his mate still tense. He begins brushing a free servo over the top of a wing, carefully gentle with the sensitive plating. After a while, what seems like hours and may very well be them, Optimus stops petting his wing, having lulled himself into recharge. The seeker remains motionless, as still as possible or he might wake his slumbering… lover.

Maybe his processor is just playing tricks with him again. Nothing comes to mind for some time, in which the seeker feels himself becoming drowsy. It was probably nothing. His communication lines are long dead, and he hasn't felt any connection with anyone save for the bastard snoozing beneath him. The small mech lets his optics roll around the room, gaze lazing over the berth, towards the edge, towards the wall he can see beyond it. Slowly, ever so slowly he becomes comfortable; he relaxes slowly but surely, until recharge tries to claim him.

_'…!'_

Then it resonates again. Soft and very far away. Starscream is pulled out of his drowsy state as if something wet has slapped him in the faceplates. He tries not to tense too much, already feeling the larger mech beneath him stir slightly in his slumber. With a lot of trouble Starscream concentrates hard in case the voice will repeat itself. Thank Primus once more it does call out, a little louder, probably lost. _'…'_ The mech's optics light up when he hears it again. He still can't tell what is being said, but knowing that he isn't alone helps. The resonating voice is becoming stronger, hopefully whoever is calling isn't giving up.

_'Starscream…'_ A surge of happiness swirls up in the flyer's ember. He recognises the voice, over the link he shares with this mech. It has been a long time he has been _this_ exhilarated to hear from him. _'Starscream…'_

Thundercracker… Is he the only one calling out? Or is their other trine mate…

_'Screamer!' _

The seeker pouts despite his barely containable glee.

-Word Vervolgd

Ideas, suggestions, thoughts, pies, all is welcome! I am having way too much fun writing this. I shouldn't.


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